


Killing Jennie Kim

by soul_is_lonely



Category: BLACKPINK (Band), K-pop, Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Action, Angst, Detectives, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Mystery, Psychological Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28691394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_is_lonely/pseuds/soul_is_lonely
Summary: National Intelligence Agent, Jennie Kim, is tasked with tracking down an annoyingly smug assassin.
Relationships: Jennie Kim/Lalisa Manoban | Lisa
Comments: 28
Kudos: 87





	1. Board Meetings & Bathrooms

**Author's Note:**

> This is very heavily based on the TV show 'Killing Eve', so any similarities are not accidental. But you don't have to have seen the TV show before to read - I've tried to make the plot as easy to understand as possible!
> 
> Mentions of blood, gore, injury.

When Jennie first saw the picture of the dead body, instinctively, her hands went to her neck, touching it gently as air rushed from between her lips. It wasn’t shock and it wasn’t horror – she’d seen too many pictures of too many dead bodies to feel either of those things anymore. Rather, it was a kind of awe. She could feel it prickling warmly in the pit of her stomach.

The picture showed a man lying in a pool of blood, his face pale, frozen in a grotesque kind of surprise. His limbs were sprawled out against the cobbled stone of the street at strange, uncomfortable angles, looking as though he was running. A single, long cut had been made vertically down the jugular of his neck. Jennie’s mind fizzed at how clean, how precise the puncture was – at how such a tiny cut could produce so much blood.

“That’s the second one this month.” Hanbin scratched at the back of his head, perplexed, as he sat down in his swivel chair. He hooked his finger over the knot of his tie to loosen it, his young face lined with fatigue. “I don’t know how they’re going to solve this one, seeing as the last five have gone unsolved for the last six months.”

Jennie glanced around the bustling office, alive with moving bodies and the incessant ring of various telephones, ensuring that no one else was listening, before leaning in slightly, motioning Hanbin in closer with an ominous wave of her hand. “I may or may not have a theory,” she whispered.

Hanbin rolled his eyes. “Of course you do,” he said flatly. “Just like you have a theory on every murder case that comes across your desk.”

“It’s different this time.” Jennie swallowed down and straightened up in her seat.

Hanbin looked over at her sceptically. “I think you forget that even though we may work at the National Intelligence Service, we’re not actually secret agents. We’re assistants, paper pushers for the guys who actually do the investigating.”

“I know that, asshole.” She threw a crumpled piece of paper at the smug look on his face.

“Do you?” He smirked over at her playfully, getting to his feet, and sliding on his grey suit jacket. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I’m going to talk to Jiyong before the meeting.” She said, watching him as he put his phone and keys into his pocket.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” he gave a cynical look. “Isn’t that meeting super important?”

“Yeah, but so is a possible lead on a murder case.” She folded her arms tightly against her chest and looked up at him.

“Is it a lead? Or is it a bunch of guesses loosely strung together?”

“Oh, fuck off, Hanbin.” She flipped him off. “Go photocopy some more files or something.”

He laughed and gave a mock, halfhearted salute before sauntering away. “Glad to, Jennie Kim.”

* * *

She fell into step with Jiyong, as she always did, as they approached the meeting room. Their synchronized footfalls echoed as they traversed briskly down the marbled corridor. They were late – again.

“What time is it?” Jiyong asked, his voice tight.

“Quarter past.”

“Fuck.” He sighed, fixing the buttons of his jacket. “We were meant to be in there fifteen minutes ago. Mino is going to have my head.”

“Jiyong,” she said breathlessly, now struggling to keep up with him, fumbling her coat and her purse and her work briefcase, “Could I talk to you about something quickly?”

“Does it have to be now?” They turned a sharp corner and arrived at the large wooden doors of the conference room. Finally, Jiyong looked at her.

“It’s about that last murder,” she huffed a breath and readjusted her mangled coat as it hung over her arm.

“Jennie,” Jiyong sighed, rubbing at his temple. “You know, as your boss and longtime friend, I love you. You’re like a little sister to me. But please, spare me the conspiracy theory for right now, okay? This meeting,” he glanced pensively at the closed door and swallowed down, “is important. Boa Kwon, head of international investigation and NIS legend, is in there. With all these unsolved cases, we really don’t have any more room for error. So, please, just for now, keep quiet and do your job – your actual job – instead of playing detective. Okay?”

Jennie’s jaw clenched in annoyance and her face marred into a displeased frown. Why was no one ever willing to listen to her? “Fine.” She shook her hair out of her eyes. “But afterwards, you better listen to everything I have to say.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Without notice, Jiyong pushed open the conference room door.

They were met with several irked stares and curious gazes. Jennie lowered her head, smiling awkwardly in way of apology as she and Jiyong sat down at the table.

“You’re late. Again.” Mino, with his shiny, spikey hair stood at the front of the room. A projector was shining onto a screen showing the NIS logo. “That’s the second time this month, Jiyong.”

“Lovely to see you as always, Mino.” To the untrained eye, Jiyong’s smile looked genuine. But Jennie’s eye definitely wasn’t untrained and she was well aware how much Jiyong absolutely loathed Mino. “I apologise for the tardiness – traffic was horrendous on the way over,”

“Traffic always seems to be horrendous whenever you’re on the road, Jiyong, it’s quite the marvel.” Mino responded, his smile dripping in unmasked sarcasm. Not giving Jiyong the chance for a rebuttal, he addressed the room jovially. “So nice to see you all. I know this meeting is a little short notice, so I appreciate you all turning up somewhat on time. Anyway,” he clapped his hands, marking the real beginning of the meeting. “There’s been another murder.”

Jennie felt her eyes widening. “Another one?” she found herself saying, maybe louder than necessary.

Everyone seemed to look at her. Mino raised a brow. “Well, yes, Miss Kim. It turns out murderous bastards are still murderous bastards even on a Tuesday.”

He chuckled, his eyes searching for someone else to laugh with him, but no one did. He cleared his throat at the silence. “I shall hand this over to Boa Kwon, head of the European Desk.”

A woman rose from her seat at the far end of the table. Her face held delicate features, but her gaze was one of hardness and her expression was expertly schooled – as if she were a poker player with a winning hand. She was dressed in a fitted grey suit, the gold buttons of her blazer fastened neatly. “Thank you, Mino, for that interesting segue.” Her voice rang out into the still air cleanly, without a waver. “You may be wondering why I’m here, seeing as I usually man the European and International Affairs desk, but unfortunately this series of apparent murders has gone overseas.”

With the click of the small black remote, the next slide flicked onto screen. Everyone tensed visibly. Jennie’s breath got caught in her throat as her eyes took in the sight of the corpse, a man, hung on a hook in the window of a butcher’s shop – literally. Without thought, she leaned forward in her seat, as if to see the details closer.

“This man is Son Seunghyun – a government official who was stationed in the Korean Embassy in Oslo, Norway.” Boa’s eyes lingered on the photograph for a moment. “He was known for advocating quite loudly for veganism – so I think our killer was trying to poke some fun with this…meaty choice of display.”

There was a murmuring in the room. Jennie found her brows drawing together in perplexity. People were murdered everyday, Jennie knew because she was the one filing away all the paperwork. But the thing was, government officials and important people in all sectors had been dropping like flies recently, all of them murdered, and murdered creatively at that. This week alone, two, now three, important, government figures had been found dead in suspicious circumstances.

“The Norwegian authorities found the body hanging in the window early this morning, but speculate he was actually murdered inside the butcher’s shop sometime late last night.” Boa flicked through some more of the slides that detailed the facts from the police and witness reports.

The room talked, Jiyong put forward some suggestions and brought everyone up to speed on the current progress of the investigation which didn’t take long – because really there hadn’t been much progress. And Jennie just tried to do her job. As Jiyong’s assistant she was supposed to take notes and keep Jiyong in check and made sure he stayed on schedule, like all the other assistants were supposed to.

And when she had first started at this job that had been just fine; she was entirely content with her work life back then. But somewhere along the way, and Jennie wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly when, she had begun to grow restless. Sometimes she felt as though something had come along in the night with a vacuum and sucked her insides out, as if there was a hollow spot, an emptiness that needed satiating.

She glanced around the room and saw the other two present assistants diligently taking notes and the other NIS heads nodding along with Jiyong as they listened to Boa Kwon. She bit her lip and found that she just couldn’t help herself. She had to ask. She had to know. Gingerly, she stuck her hand in the air.  
Everyone looked at her. Again.

Jiyong’s eyes were question marks. What the fuck are you doing? She could feel him asking silently, urgently.

Boa stopped mid-sentence and looked at her, almost expressionlessly. “Uh, yes?”

“Hi. Sorry for interrupting Ms. Kwon.” She lowered her hand and smiled awkwardly. “It’s just, I have a question if that’s alright?”

“Ask away,” Boa prompted, crossing her hands in front of her expectantly.

“Its just, you said Son Seunghyun was a known vegan?” Jennie places her finger on the relevant part of the file.

“I did.” Boa confirms.

“I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with the investigation, Miss Kim?” Mino interrupted from across the table.

“It’s very rude to cut someone off when they’re trying to make a point, Mr. Song.” Boa responded, her tone calm yet chillingly cold. “Please, go on, Miss Kim.”

Jennie nodded appreciatively at her. “If he was a vegan then what was he doing in a butcher’s shop? Especially late at night?”

“A very valid observation.” Boa’s lip seemed uplift slightly but Jennie wasn’t sure what that meant. “Norwegian authorities are still trying to piece together a timeline, so we don’t know for sure. But they theorize that he was out late with friends and was somehow lured there.”

“Lured there?” Jennie cradled her chin in thought. “So, then it would seem likely that the killer is a woman?” She felt Jiyong touch her arm in warning.

“A woman? That’s a very brave assumption.” Mino scoffed, shifting in his leather chair.

“He was a heterosexual male, with a known history of misconduct with female colleagues. It would seem unlikely that a man like that could be lured by the wiles of another man, right?” She implored to the room.

“Assumptions aren’t facts, Miss Kim.” Mino laughed as he stood from his seat, doing up the buttons on his suit jacket pompously. “You’re an assistant. Not a detective. Please know your place.”

Jennie opened her mouth to respond but Jiyong delivered her with a firm kick under the table, telling her to keep quiet. She huffed and leaned back in her seat as Mino pushed the meeting onward.

Jennie continued taking her notes, but couldn’t help the feeling that Boa’s eyes were lingering on her still.

* * *

Jennie was convinced that she loved her boyfriend. He was kind, and even though they’d been dating for the last six months, he still asked for permission whenever they kissed. He warmed her insides like a fresh mug of hot chocolate.

He was safety. And what kind of person would she be to break the heart of a man like that? He made her laugh and paid for meals, and she wasn’t sure what else she could ask for.

“I’m sorry your boss is an asshole,” he said, holding his burger in his lanky fingers. Every Wednesday night they met up at the McDonalds around the corner for dinner. Tonight was no exception. It wasn’t her ideal eatery of choice, but he liked it because it was cheap, easy and somewhat palatable.

She shrugged. Her dejection from yesterday’s meeting was still festering inside her like a nasty infection. “I should be used to it at this point.”

“Why don’t you talk to him? Put your foot down.”

“Put my foot down with Mino?” She looked at him incredulously. While her boyfriend was sweet, he was also naïve to the types of things that tended to happen at a National Intelligence Service. “He’d have me fired on the spot.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” he sighed, looking at her sympathetically as he patted the back of her hand.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s just the way it is.” She tried to smile a little at him.

He had sauce on his face and grains of salt stuck to his fingers. In certain lights she would look at him and wonder what it was…if there was anything at all.

“I’m gonna nip to the toilet,” she said getting up, breaking her thoughts off before they went too far. “Be back in a second.”

* * *

Jennie let out a sigh and flushed the toilet, watching the water swirl around the bowl in a tornado-like fashion, before finally doing the button up on her jeans and unlocking the cubicle door. She stepped out to wash her hands, but stopped in her tracks when she saw a rather familiar woman standing by the hand-dryer.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Jennie blinked away her confusion, her surprise. “Uh, Miss Kwon?”

“Please,” she said, tucking her hands into the pockets of her long tan coat, “call me Boa.”

“Boa,” Jennie echoed. “Uh, right,” she came forward slowly. “Can I?” she gestured awkwardly to the sink.

“Ah, yes,” Boa said, stepping aside. “Please do.”

Jennie washed her hands quickly, her eyes trained on the tap and the soapy suds forming around the drain as she tried to understand what was happening. _Why the fuck is Boa Kwon in the McDonald’s bathroom watching me wash my hands?_

“Uh,” she snatched some paper towels from a nearby dispenser before turning to Boa to air her confusion, “May I ask what you’re doing here? Is there something you need?”

Boa’s pretty face remained poised and unperturbed. “I was just in the area, and thought why not stop by for a chat?”

“In the McDonald’s bathroom?”

“Why, yes,” Boa shrugged, “there are few places better for a conversation.”

“Okay…” Jennie let out an uncertain chuckle.

“Is the man outside your boyfriend?” Boa asked once more.

“Uh, yes,” she answered, “he’s my boyfriend.”

“Been together long?”

“Only six months,” Jennie found her eyebrows drawing together, unsure where exactly this was going.

“Huh,” Boa said, her face almost disturbingly expressionless. “Six months is often the longest most relationships last. If you’re lucky.”

“I’m sorry to be blunt but,” Jennie took a breath, “I don’t think you came just to ask me about my relationship status. What’s this really about?”

“I think you were right at the meeting,” Boa’s eyes seemed to glimmer with something in the jaundice lights, “I think the person who killed Son Seunghyun was a woman.”

“Really?” Jennie felt something inside her lurch.

“We have yet to find evidence to prove so, but my intuition tells me your logic may have some merit in this case. And my intuition is almost always correct.” Boa folded her arms over her chest, and Jennie surmised that Boa probably knew much more than she’d ever let on. “My intuition also tells me that not many people listen to you. Really listen to you.”

Jennie scoffed. “You could say that again.”

“You remind me of myself when I was your age,” Boa stepped forward, and although she wasn’t much taller than herself, Jennie felt as though Boa towered above her like a monument in a town square. “And that is why I feel compelled to ask you.”

“Ask me what?”

“This investigation is progressing much too slow. Everything is still rather up in the air, but I’m trying to put together a team.”

“A team?” Jennie’s found herself leaning forward without realising.

“Yes. A team specifically set on solving this string of murders before its too late.”

“Isn’t that Jiyong’s job?”

“If he doesn’t make a major breakthrough within the next 48 hours, it may no longer be his job.” Boa explained, her tone at that same, one, calm note. “I’m simply putting some feelers out there, to see who would be willing.”

“I see,” Jennie swallowed and she thought of Jiyong. He’d been her friend for a long time. She’d dedicated the last couple years of her life to being his assistant, to helping him, and he’d guided her, advised her as though he were an older brother.

“I understand that your loyalties lie with Jiyong, but don’t let that squander your true potential.” Boa’s lip quirked up ever so slightly and it was the first time Jennie had seen any real expression outwardly expressed on her face. “You seem much too clever for that.”

“Can I think it over?”

“Of course. I’ll be in touch.” Boa gave a small nod before heading to the bathroom door, but just as she pulled it open, she turned back to Jennie. “If I were you, I’d break up with him soon.”

“I’m sorry?” Jennie questioned, perplexed.

“When you work in a field like ours, ordinary men often wonder if you’re having an affair.”

“Oh, I don’t think-…” she shook her head. “I wouldn’t- he wouldn’t ever think I was having an affair.”

Boa’s smile was gentle, as though she were regarding Jennie as a naïve child. “Give it time.” With that, she let the door close.

* * *

“Thanks for staying up with me,” Jiyong’s eyes were rimmed with dark circles. It was pushing on 3am.

“Well, I’m not gonna let Boa Kwon fire you so easily, am I?” Jennie smiled at him reassuringly, patting his forearm. Jennie believed in loyalty and Jennie believed in perseverance – she would need both if she was going to help Jiyong make a break through in this investigation. Jiyong was a good person, and good people deserve to be saved if they can.

“So, let’s go over this one more time,” Jiyong said, pulling a timeline up onto the screen, displaying times, dates and images of the murders. “Three murders have taken place in the space of the last seven days. Wendy Chan in Shanghai, Steve Watari in Osaka and Son Seunghyun in Oslo. No DNA matches, no CCTV for any of the kills, and no real evidence to say that these murders were committed by the same person.” Jiyong tapped his pen against his front teeth in thought, “Looks like a dead end if you ask me.”

“There must be something,” Jennie let out an exasperated sigh. “What motive could one person have for killing all these people?”

“Well, we don’t know if it is one person.” Jiyong shrugged, pursing his lips in thought. “It could be a group. Multiple assassins?”

“No,” Jennie shook her head. “These kills…they’re all different but there’s still a…a style to them - a flair. But I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Jiyong hummed. “Assassins trained by the same organization?”

“Possibly. That would explain how they’ve managed to kill so many so fast.” She cradled her chin in her fingers. “But we need evidence. There must be something that we’ve missed.”

“We’re going in circles, Jen,” Jiyong said gently, turning his head to look at her. “Maybe we should give it a rest for now and regroup in the morning?”

“Are you sure?” Jennie frowned at him.

“I’m positive. If I drink anymore Red Bull I think I’ll start seeing double,” he chuckled.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he confirmed with a small smile. “You go ahead and I’ll lock up. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks, Ji.” She stood up and stretched, stifling a yawn behind her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Jennie?” he called after a moment.

She paused, looking up from her open handbag. “Yeah?”

“I know I don’t tell you often but,” he reached out and gripped her hand, squeezing it tightly, “you’re the best person I know. I might not listen to your crazy theories all the time, but you’re really talented. I can’t wait for the world to see it.”

She felt a strange pang conjure up in her chest. Gazing down at him, she returned the squeeze. “Your old age is making you sentimental.”

They shared a laugh. Jiyong let her go. She shouldered her bag and her coat and looked back at him once at the door. The first time they met came back to her. She remembered his face back then, younger, eyes brighter. It felt like a different lifetime.

“You’re the best person I know, too. I wouldn’t change you for the world.” She told him sincerely. In retrospect she’ll realise that it was a goodbye. She didn’t know it then, but it’d be one of the last times she’d see him breathing.


	2. Gunshots & Slit Throats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennie interrogates someone she's not supposed to. The mystery assassin takes care of her targets, until someone gets in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to note that I know next to nothing about how police or intelligence services conduct their investigations. All the detective/police investigation stuff included in this fic is solely based on what I've seen on TV. Forgive any discrepancies.

Lisa sat down slowly and crossed her legs. She regarded the gun in her hand for a moment before letting it hang limply over knee. In front of her, there was a man tied to a chair. He had tried to run from her, which was a very, very silly move. People who run from Lisa usually never run (or breathe) again. She had grabbed him by the collar and delivered him with a swift, powerful blow to the cranium with the blunt end of her pistol. He’d fallen to the ground, unconscious, but, unfortunately, still breathing. So, she hauled him into the nearest chair and bound his wrists and his ankles together with some telephone wire.

He was now, slowly regaining consciousness. She watched as his head lolled around on his neck, his eyeballs twitching under his veiny eyelids. He groaned hoarsely, squinting against the light as his vision cleared.

Sometimes, Lisa liked her kills quick and clean. She wanted in and she wanted out. That’s how most people in her field of work tended to operate. But most of the time, like this time, Lisa found that there was no fun in quick, clean kills. A little mess was enjoyable sometimes.

The man blinked at her. He was an ugly man, like most men were ugly men. He had a bloated, pinkish face, decorated with a thick grey mustache, bulbous arteries and tiny, black eyes that looked more like little stones that had been stuck unceremoniously into a blob of dough. 

“Who are you?” he demanded weakly, already tugging at his restraints in a pathetic struggle.

“Who aren’t I?” she leaned back and relaxed in her seat. “Huge question.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

She smiled a little. “Yes.”

“But I have a wife and- and kids!” he pleaded, his big pink face reddening. “Do you want money? I can give you money.”

“I already have money,” she shrugged. “As for your wife and kids: they’ll probably cry about it for a while, but they’ll get over it. I’m guessing you were a shit father anyway.”

“Why are you doing this?” He breathed in sharply as tears welled up in his tiny, rodent-like eyes.

“I have no idea.” She answered, entirely unaffected by his emotions. It had always been interesting to her, observing people who were about to die. There was always a scrambling, a pleading, a bargaining, as if their lives really mattered in the first place. Death was always coming, and Lisa’s job was just to bring the date forward.

“Who sent you?” He sobbed. “Is there nothing I can do?”

“No.” She stood, poised her finger on the trigger and placed the muzzle to his forehead. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Tell my daughter I lo-“

She squeezed. Bang.

His brains sprayed out behind him in wet chunks. She watched as the life emptied from his eyes, until there was nothing left.

There was something beautiful about it, she thought – had always thought. She wanted to tell someone. But the only other occupant in the room was now dead.

* * *

“The job went well?” he asked.

“Perfectly,” she answered, sitting down next to him.

Neither one of them looked at each other. This was routine. He’d asked to meet her at a nearby park and this was where she’d found him; sitting on a bench in his black trench coat, hands tucked into his pockets, his pale brown eyes drifting from place to place.

“Method?”

“Bullet through the head.”

“Location?”

“Derelict building in the outskirts Takamatsu.”

“Good.” He nodded. “No one saw you?”

“No one saw me.” She confirmed. Every meeting, he always asked the same questions and she always gave the same answers, give or take a couple of details. Lisa was good at her job. Every kill was immaculate. He didn’t need to ask. But it was almost like a ritual. The transaction wasn’t complete without it. “Can you look at me now?”

He chuckled slightly and turned his head toward her. “Happy?”

“Over the moon.” She pinched her face in a mocking expression.

“Lalisa,” he began.

“Augustus,” she mimicked.

He shifted and slipped his hand into his coat and wordlessly pulled out a postcard and an envelope with airplane tickets. He passed them to her. “They want you to do another job.”

“Already?” She frowned slightly, although unsurprised. She turned over the postcard to find a picture of the Namsan Tower, lit up under the night sky, printed on the back.

“They know they’ve been working you hard, lately. But after this one, you’ll be able to lie low for a while.” Augustus reached out and patted Lisa’s knee gently. “Besides, Seoul will be lovely this time of year.”

“Must be urgent if they’re sending me out again this fast,” she commented, twirling the postcard between her fingers.

“The Korean National Intelligence Service have been keeping track of your kills for a while. They’ve never come close to a lead, but with the amount of kills happening so fast all of sudden, they’ve began to piece together a real investigation.” He explained, sucking his teeth.

“An investigation doesn’t mean they’ll find anything,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

“And they hadn’t found anything,” he paused. “Until this morning.”

“Huh.” Lisa scoffed, unperturbed. “What did they find?”

“A witness from in your job in Oslo.”

“Impossible.” She shook her head. “There were no witnesses.”

“The witness is a woman. A friend of the man you took care of. She claims to have seen you leading him into the butcher shop alleyway. She described you as a slender woman with an athletic build, long dark hair and a pretty face.” He shrugged. “Which is not good. She must be eliminated.”

“When?”

“She’ll be getting into Seoul this afternoon. Your flight lands not long after hers. Info is on the postcard as usual.”

Lisa nodded as Augustus got to his feet. Tucking his hands back into his pockets, he looked down at her and smiled a little. It was a beautiful day in Tokyo – if only she had the chance to enjoy it.

“Take care of it. Make it look like suicide.” He said. “And I’ll see you back in Bangkok for a debrief.”

He turned and sauntered away. Lisa went back to her hotel room and began to pack, thinking about the Korean food she could eat and the life she’d be taking away.

* * *

“We got a lead,” Jiyong said, standing in front of her, smiling.

Jennie blinked at him, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. She shrugged off her coat and let it fall to the floor, her mouth hanging open slightly. “Are you kidding?”

“A woman in Oslo called Mary Jang came forward as a witness. Norwegian authorities just gave us the call this morning. And guess what else?”

Jennie took a deep breath, trying to process the information. As much faith as she had in Jiyong, she hadn’t expected this to turn around so suddenly, so quickly. “What?”

“You were right. The killer is a woman.”

“Fuck off,” she gasped. “You’re joking.”

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “I’m serious.” He squeezed her tightly in his arms. Slightly surprised at the sudden show of affection, she stilled for a moment before returning the embrace. “You were right the whole time. I should’ve listened to you sooner.”

She chuckled in disbelief as they pulled away from the hug. “Oh my god. I’m in shock.”

“Honestly, me too, Jen.” He rubbed a hand over his short hair. “But we have to get things in motion now. Norwegian authorities gave us the outline of Mary’s statement, but as she’s our only lead, we’re flying her into Seoul this afternoon for further questioning.”

Jennie nodded, sobering herself from her elation. “What do you need me to do?”

“Arrange the security, make sure she gets in safely. Give her anything she needs. She’ll be shaken up, so make sure she’s calm and clear headed by the time I take her in for questioning.” He instructed.

“Got it.” She nodded. “Do I have permission to ask her a couple of questions-“

“No.” Jiyong cut in briskly. “Don’t interrogate her yourself. It’s not your job. Just make sure she’s safe. Got it?”

Jennie heaved a sigh. “Anything you say boss.” She gave a bitter salute as they parted ways.

* * *

Jennie knocked on the door gently before entering. Mary was sitting at the table and stood as Jennie came inside. She was a small, mousy looking woman, dressed in a dull looking floral print dress with a black cardigan over the top. Her hair was pinned back neatly on her head and her face was void of any make up.

“Mary,” she greeted, shaking the woman’s hand. “I’m Jennie Kim from the Korean National Intelligence Service. Thank you for making the trip on such short notice. How are you doing?”

As they sat down at the table, opposite one another, Mary gave an unstable smile, pushing away an invisible strand of hair from her face. “Oh, I’m okay. Just a little, you know, shaken up.”

“That’s totally understandable. You’ve had an overwhelming couple of days.” Jennie nodded in sympathy.

“Am I…” Mary swallowed down, eyes wide, “Am I in trouble?”

“Absolutely not,” Jennie shook her head. “We just want to ask you a couple of questions about what you saw.”

“I already told the police in Norway everything I know but they didn’t give me much information,” she began to babble, “and you know since I found out that Seunghyun died in such an _awful_ way I don’t really know what to think anymore. I mean it’s just all too much. He was found hanging in a butcher’s shop window! What kind of animal would do such a thing!” Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes and before Jennie could console her, she began to sob uncontrollably.

Jennie patted the woman’s hand, trying to comfort her. “It’s okay Ms. Jang. I know it’s hard.” She waved to an officer standing guard outside, gesturing him to come in. “Could you maybe get Ms. Jang some tea and some tissues?”

“Of course,” the young officer nodded before disappearing and coming back a few minutes later with a mug of coffee and a tissue box. He set them on the table before going back to his post outside.

Mary plucked some tissues from the box and blew her nose noisily. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed, snot on her upper lip. “I didn’t mean to get emotional.”

Jennie shushed her, telling her it was fine. She had dealt with a large number of emotional witnesses and victims over her years of service; knowing how to calm them was second nature to her now. While she could perform her sympathy, sometimes she felt desensitized to it all. Dead bodies and murders, day in and day out. She understood Mary’s tears, but she also didn’t have time for them.

She checked her watch. “Ms. Jang,” she said once Mary had sobered from her outburst, “My job is to handle the paperwork and make sure you have everything you need.”

“You’re not going to interrogate me?” Mary clutched the wet tissue to her chest.

Jennie shook her head. “No, the head detective, Kwon Jiyong, will conduct the questioning later in the day. Right now, I just need to confirm your details.” She took out a manilla folder and talked Mary through the proceedings with an automated ease. The woman sniveled and sighed all the way through, but complied, nonetheless.

Jennie signed and dated the paperwork to be filed away later. “Okay, that’s everything. Soon, the officers will escort you to the safehouse where you’ll be staying while you’re here. The officers will be on watch the whole time, so you’ll be safe.”

“A safehouse? Officers?” The woman questioned, unsure. “Am I in danger?”

Jennie smiled gently at the woman, not wanting to alarm her. “It’s just a precaution. There’s very little chance you’ll be put in danger, especially with our officers on guard.”

Marry nodded, although her face was still marred with apprehension. “Okay,”

“Is there anything else that I can do for you before I go?” Jennie asked, wanting to set Mary at ease as much as possible before the interrogation.

Mary shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Well, alright then,” Jennie said, about to stand and make her way to the door. But Mary stopped her before she could.

“Is the woman I saw…is she the one who killed him?”

Jennie hovered awkwardly over her seat before sitting down again. “That’s not information I can disclose-“

“Please,” Mary begged shakily. “Just tell me.”

“Mary, I can’t-“

“I loved him.” She confessed suddenly. “Seunghyun. I was in love with him.”

Jennie simply looked at the other woman for a moment, trying to school her face into something neutral. _Mary was in love with Son Seunghyun?_ A million other questions popped into her mind. Mary could be connected to all this. Mary could have the answers. Intuitively, she knew this was an unmissable opportunity. Mary didn’t seem too stable – what if she clammed up during the interrogation with Jiyong later? That would place them back at square one. Jennie had Mary comfortable now. She should utilize the situation just in case.

With this in mind, she slipped her hand into her coat pocket and discreetly took out her phone, opened the voice recorder app and pressed the big red button. It wasn’t exactly ethical to record a witness unsupervised and without permission – but ethical didn’t always get you results.

“You were in love with Son Seunghyun? The victim?” Jennie questioned, wanting Mary to repeat herself.

Mary nodded tearfully. “I met him at a party. We had a mutual friend. And I…” she sniffled breathily. “I’d never been to a party before and I was nervous. Seunghyun made me comfortable and…he was so charming. I knew it from the moment I met him.”

“He was your boyfriend or…?” Jennie pried gently.

Mary shook her head in negative. “It was…casual. We slept together a couple of times. I knew he was seeing other people…but I just wanted to be seen by him.”

“I see.” Jennie wet her lips. “Do you think the woman you saw him with the night he died…do you think she was another one of the women he was seeing?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She inhaled and exhaled unsteadily, as if the memory had taken a physical toll on her.

“Did you see what she looked like? The woman?” Subconsciously, Jennie leaned forward in her seat.

“Only in passing. I didn’t get a good look at her face…it was dark out.”

“Could you try and describe what you remember? Any details will be helpful.” She didn’t know why, but her heart was racing. These murders had been plaguing her. She’d studied every kill closely and been amazed by the skill, the accuracy, the fact that the killer was untraceable. The prospect of finding out, even the tiniest bit of information, on this mysterious assassin had Jennie giddy on the inside.

“Well,” Mary took a breath. “I was out for a walk in the city. I was upset because I asked Seunghyun out, but he rejected me, said he had better things to do. He was always doing that. Anyway, I thought some fresh air would clear my head. Oslo is a very safe city. Even at night. It was a Monday, so the streets were more or less empty. I looked up and I saw Seunghyun walking right by me with this woman. He didn’t even notice me. They just…walked right by. I turned and watched as they rounded the corner, and I followed them until they went down that alley next to the butcher shop. Like I said, I didn’t see the woman’s face properly, so I can’t tell you exactly what she looked like. But I think she was…rather pretty. Long dark hair. Slim. A little above average height.”

Jennie nodded, trying to put the details together into some kind of coherent image. “Did you see what she was wearing?”

Mary frowned in thought. “From what I can remember…she had on a coat. A long one. It was a nice tanned colour. And…leather boots. They looked expensive. She looked expensive, even from behind.”

“Was there anything noticeable about the way she walked or talked? Did you hear her voice? Could you make out what language they were speaking or what they were saying?”

“She seemed very relaxed,” she nodded slowly, staring down at the tabletop. “They were walking at a pretty leisurely pace, like they weren’t rushing or anything. She had a kind of confidence. It looked she was leading him, opposed to the other way round. In terms of language…I think they were speaking Korean. I recognized it because my father is Korean, you see. But I can’t understand it.”

She pondered asking Mary some more questions but figured she should probably get back to the office before Jiyong would get suspicious. She gave her thanks to the woman before leaving.

She walked to the nearest subway station and caught a rail service back to the NIS building. The cart wasn’t too busy, so she managed to slide down into a seat near the doors. For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined the woman Mary had described.

Tall, dark, beautiful and expensive.

A woman leading a man to his death, down a dark alley in a European city.

Calm and sure.

She went over it again and again, filling in the details with her own musings. A murderer. A killer. A female assassin.

She smiled a little to herself. It felt like receiving a gift on Christmas morning; a scare on Halloween night; or a rose on Valentines.

* * *

“You did what?” Jiyong’s face fell is dismay.

“I…” Jennie hesitated for a moment. “I kind of…I just asked her some questions…and recorded it.”

“Jennie.” Jiyong facepalmed himself.

“I know it wasn’t the most ethical-“

“Jennie, it’s _illegal_.” He slapped the files he was holding onto the desk. “You interrogated a witness without supervision or approval. Not only that, you recorded the witness without permission!”

“I didn’t interrogate her!” Jennie combatted, trying to find some kind of excuse. “It was just…it was just a conversation. She was a nervous wreck and I figured she’d tell you herself during the interrogation anyway…but I just…I just felt like I had her in the perfect spot and I…I was just curious, okay?”

“You and your curiosity,” Jiyong shook his head and rubbed at his face. “Look, it doesn’t matter. We have more pressing issues on our hands right now.”

Jennie came forward, wringing her hands. “Did something happen?”

“There’s been another murder.” Jiyong sighed.

“What?” she gaped.

“The body of a man was found in an abandoned building in Takamatsu - a city on the Japanese island of Shikoku. His name was Will Cheston. British man working as a liaison officer for Korean officials.” He opened the file and slid it closer for her to see.

She looked down at the details printed on the page before leafing through the photos. She tilted her head and examined a particularly gory photograph of the man, Will Cheston, fat and pink, tied to a chair, with a bullet hole in his forehead.

“When?” She asked after a moment, not being able to stop the image of a pretty woman with a gun coming to mind.

“They found him this morning. Word got to me about an hour ago.” He flopped down into his swivel chair. She could almost see the stress and tension tightening up in his shoulders. “I need to sort this out. Interrogating Mary Jang will have to be put on hold until tonight.”

Jennie nodded quickly. “I’ll communicate that with the officers in charge of her.”

“Good,” he nodded. “Schedule an emergency meeting with the other detectives. We need to bring everyone up to speed.”

“Of course.” She nodded again before leaving.

* * *

He had the worst headache of his life. With a new witness and a new murder, and so many other unsolved murders preceding this one, Jiyong felt as though he was being pulled in every direction. Nothing had gone right.

He turned off the engine and looked up at the small apartment building. It was no more than 4 stories high, in a quiet, residential and inconspicuous neighborhood on the outskirts of the city – perfect for a safehouse. He checked his watch to find that it was nearing 9pm, but his partner, the one and only Jennie Kim, was nowhere to be found.

He dialed her number. It rang twice before she picked up, breathless.

“I know, I’m late, I’m sorry,” She said quickly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“How soon?” He asked, smiling a little to himself. Jennie always had a way to amuse him.

“There’s been a delay on the subway. I think something has broken down. They’re saying it could be anywhere between fifteen to thirty minutes before its back up and running.”

He sighed. “Alright then. Let me know when you’re on your way.”

“Will do.” She said, and then paused. “Ji, are you mad at me?”

He chuckled lightly. “No. I could never be mad at you. Not for long anyway.”

“Are you sure? I know I messed up today and now I’m late for the interrogation-“

“Jen, it’s fine.” He stopped her. Biting his lower lip, he leaned back in his seat, feeling those old butterflies tickling in his chest. “I know you had good intentions. Besides, the subway gets backed up sometimes. You can’t control these things.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She said softly.

“I’m sorry for how I spoke to you earlier. It wasn’t nice.” He said after a moment.

“You don’t have to apologize. You were just stressed. I know you’re dealing with a lot.”

“I know, but still.” He glanced out of the window, thinking of what she might look like right now, standing on a bustling subway platform in her coat, handbag on her shoulder, phone pressed to her ear.

“If you really feel that bad, how ‘bout you buy me dinner and we’ll call it even.”

He scoffed. “Buy you dinner? Isn’t that your boyfriend’s job?”

“Well, yeah.” There was a delay in her response. “But his idea of taking me out for dinner is McDonald’s on a Wednesday night.”

“Ew,” he cringed. “I know it isn’t my place to say but…You could do better than him.” The words, to Jennie, may have sounded like a casual jibe, but, to Jiyong they carried a weight that she would never understand.

“I know he seems cheap, but he’s genuinely a really nice guy,” Jennie admonished gently. “You can’t even talk shit about my boyfriend anyway. Your last two girlfriends have been horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Just get here soon. I’m going to head inside and prep Mary for the interrogation. Call me if there’s anymore delays.” He bid farewell and ended the call.

He took a breath, got out the car and strode inside, unknowing that would be the last time he’d hear her voice.

* * *

When Jiyong got to the floor of the safehouse apartment, he noticed that there were no officers standing guard. That was the first warning sign. He looked up and down the hallway, pausing for a moment to listen to see if he could hear anything strange or suspicious; voices, muffled screaming, groans of pain, the click of a gun. But everything was quiet. Everything was calm.

There was any number of reasons as to why the officers were not here. They could be inside, they could’ve gone for a walk. Maybe Mary needed something and they were escorting her? It was all plausible.

He inspected the door but couldn’t see any signs of forced entry.

He took a breath and willed for things to just be okay, that he would walk into the safehouse and Mary and the two officers would be perfectly fine, chatting over tea.

He placed a hand on his gun that he kept concealed under his jacket before carefully typing the passcode into the keypad on the lock. It bleeped a robotic jingle. He pushed the door, letting it swing open.

He should’ve known. He should’ve seen it coming.

There, in the middle of the apartment, laid three bodies. The two officers. And Mary. In a pool of blood.

Holding in a scream, he drew his gun from its holster and approached.

He edged forward, pistol poised and ready to fire. He scanned the room quickly, skirting around the corpses, and ducked a head into the nearby rooms, making sure the killer was no longer on the premises.

He looked down at the dead bodies on the floor, his head feeling light. Mary’s throat had been slit. The two officers had taken gunshot wounds to the head and abdomen.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

He wanted to puke. He wanted to run.

_Fuck._

He moved to retrieve his phone from his pocket, but stopped, frozen, as he felt cold metal being pressed to the back of his skull.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voice said from behind him. A woman. “You make any sudden movements, I pull this trigger. And you join them on the floor.”

Jiyong could feel his body locking up. He was shaking.

“Put the gun down,” the voice said, cold and calm.

Jiyong swallowed down, and did as instructed, placing the gun on the floor beside him. He heard it being kicked away, out of reach.

“Good,” the voice said. “Take your clothes off.”

“W-what?” Jiyong stammered.

“Your clothes. Take them off. I want to see if you’re hiding anything.” The voice said, unwaveringly.

Jiyong nodded, and reluctantly shrugged off his jacket and blazer. He pulled off his tie and his shirt and his trousers – letting each article of clothing fall to the floor – until he was left in his undershirt, underwear and socks.

“Get on your knees.”

He almost collapsed to the floor. Jiyong was not brave. He never had been. He’d seen death and violence and blood, but he’d never been in the midst of it. He was always in the aftermath, clearing up the mess. But now death was holding a gun to his head, and death did not seem hesitant to pull the trigger.

“You’re very obedient.” The voice chuckled.

He heard movement behind him, as though his clothes were being picked up and thrown somewhere. And then came the footsteps – slow and purposeful – as the faceless woman walked to stand in front of him.

His eyes ascended slowly, up the slender body, clad in black boots, black combat trousers, a black turtleneck jumper with a harness strapped across her shoulders and chest. Finally he saw her face. And he wanted to laugh. He never knew the bearer of death could be so stunning.

It was then he noticed that she was holding his badge and wallet in her hand.

“Kwon Jiyong,” she read aloud. “Korean National Intelligence Service. Head detective. Seoul.” Her eyes flickered down to him. “How disappointing.” She flung his badge over her shoulder, as if it were no longer of interest to her, and pulled a dining chair over. She sat down in front of him and examined his face with dark, unfeeling eyes. “Your two buddies over there put up a better fight than you. And you’re supposed to be their boss?”

“What do you want?” He said, trying to sound calm, but the wobble in his voice betrayed him.

“People always ask that,” she smiled a little, as if the whole situation was very amusing to her. “As if they actually have anything I want.”

“I can give you immunity,” he said, struggling to keep eye contact with her. “You give us information about who you’re working for and-“

She cut him off with a hard laugh. “Immunity? You government-police types are very funny, you know that?” She sighed in contentment and leaned back in the chair, entirely relaxed, like she was lounging at home instead of at a murder scene. “You’re all the same.”

“Who are you?” He pushed on anyway. “Are the people you work for threatening you? Is that why you’re doing this? Because I can help-“

“Ugh,” she groaned. “A cop who’s not only a coward, but a crook too? Boring.” She shifted and flipped his wallet open, going through the contents at an almost leisurely pace. She pulled out his photo ID and snorted, “You’ve gotten ugly,” before slotting it back into its place. She then pulled out a small photograph – one that he’d kept in there for a long time.

He bowed his head lower, shamefully. He didn’t have to look to know who was in that little picture.

“Who’s this?” she asked, inspecting the photograph.

Jiyong stared at the ground, feeling tears fill his eyes and spill over the edge, tracking, down, down his cheeks as he came to the realization that his life was just-

She pressed the muzzle to his forehead, forcing him to look at her, stopping his train of thought.

“Answer me. Or you’ll die sooner.” She said, whispering almost. “Who’s in the photograph? Your girlfriend?”

“My colleague.” He shook his head.

A smirk quirked up on the woman’s lips. “You keep a picture of all your colleagues in your wallet?” She turned the picture so he could look at it. “She must be special. Very beautiful.”

Jiyong stared back at the picture of Jennie in front of him. _Jennie._ It was a photo they had taken together at their first Christmas party at the NIS office. He remembered how loudly Jennie laughed, that smile…her smile, her curiosity, her eyes, her mouth, and everything that made her who she was. It flashed before him in vivid detail, reaffirming that she was all he really cared about.

The killer’s eyes observed Jiyong’s face. “You’re in love with her.” She concluded, as if she’d solved a riddle. “You’re in love with her, but she doesn’t love you back.”

“You won’t get away with this,” he said weakly, crying, shaking.

“Won’t I?” The woman laughed humorlessly, moving the picture away, looking at it one more time before sliding it into her own pocket. “I get away with everything.” She stood, fastened her gun back into her holster, and produced a knife from her other side. She twirled it expertly between her fingers and looked down and Jiyong delicately. “Any last words?”

Jiyong looked up at her, looked up at death, and the realization came back to him. He was on his knees, in his underwear, and this woman was going to kill him. His life was going to be snubbed out like a weak flame between grubby fingers. He’d failed at his job, and he’d never told the person he loved most how he felt. He uttered his last words with his last breath: “I regret everything in my life.”

She grabbed him by the hair, and pulled his head back, her smile one of only pure joy. She slit his throat.

The blood ran down his front in a hot wave. He could feel the life draining out of him, like a broken dam. He was falling. He fell to the ground. Darkness was coming toward him like a freight train, ready to swallow him. As he died, two thoughts crossed his mind. The first was Jennie. The second was how beautiful death really was.


	3. Names & Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennie has a funeral to attend. Lisa puts a name to the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love you guys have shown for the first two chapters. I tried to finish this update ASAP, and will try to write and post chapters weekly, but don't hold me to that because I'm a very slow writer with about a million other things to update. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Jennie paced down the street, eyes glued to the map on her phone. Jiyong was going to kill her for being late, again. Thirty-five minutes late, at that. Her legs were burning a little from the speed walking, her handbag bouncing against her side, producing a dull ache in her shoulder.

She huffed and rounded the corner and paused momentarily when she saw Jiyong’s car parked across the street. “Must be around here somewhere, then,” she mumbled, fixing her eyes on the map, moving her way closer to the virtual red pin blinking at her.

She glanced up at the nearest apartment building and figured this must be it. She was about to call Jiyong so he could buzz the door when she heard a click and whoosh as the entrance swung open.

A woman emerged from the building dressed in a bomber jacket and a turtleneck. She paused once she saw Jennie standing there. A strange kind of smile came to the woman’s lips briefly as she held the door open. Jennie thanked her as they brushed shoulders. There was something striking about her, but before she could complete the thought and figure out what it was, the woman was gone, striding down the street and out of sight.

She shrugged and went inside.

In the elevator, she thought about Mary Jang, that manic look she had in her eye earlier as she rehashed her account of the mysterious woman, and wondered how exactly Jiyong was going to handle her. She guessed he would go for the good cop approach – mostly because he was awful at playing bad cop. He wasn’t intimidating in any sense of the word.

She smiled a little to herself thinking about him. For the umpteenth time since they started working together, she found herself thanking fate for gifting her such a person. He was kind to her, good to her, complimented her work ethic, and even sometimes listened to her crazy ideas.

 _Jennie and Jiyong, the unstoppable duo._ She chuckled to herself and hoped that the interrogation would go smoothly and accelerate the investigation. Not only did they need it desperately, but she also felt that Jiyong deserved it, considering how much stress he’d been under recently.

The elevator dinged, drawing her out of her musings. As she stepped out into the corridor, the first thing she noticed was how quiet it was, how empty it felt. She checked the apartment number that Jiyong had sent her earlier and proceeded down the hall with a caution she couldn’t quite explain.

_Where are the officers that are supposed to be stationed outside?_

A large lump swelled in her throat as she arrived at the apartment door, only to find it slightly ajar. She blinked at the gap between the door and the frame, light spilling out of the crack in an ugly orange tinge.

_Please, no. Please, please, please._

She nudged the door. She let it creak open. And the scene unveiled itself before her like a red nightmare.

She stood there before the massacre, her breath trapped in her chest. Jiyong’s eyes were like black marbles as they looked through her, as though they were asking her why she hadn’t come sooner.

* * *

Lisa liked women. In fact, no, she didn’t just like women. She _loved_ women. Their bodies, their voices, their nuances and their complexities borne from navigating a man’s world. Lisa thought that women were the most extraordinary things in the world.

She skated her fingertips down the naked skin before her.

_Yes, so very extraordinary._

The woman in her bed sighed contentedly, her head of dark hair fanning out over the white bedsheets. She rolled over and draped her arm over Lisa’s torso.

“Good morning,” the woman greeted, planting kisses on Lisa’s jaw.

“Morning,” she returned. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name, nor did she really care to remember, anyway. What mattered was that she was beautiful - brown skin, long, dark curly hair that tumbled down her shoulders, and chocolaty eyes that glittered in the morning light – and good at sex.

Their lips met in a wet entanglement of tongues and hot breath as the woman made to straddle her, raking her fingers down Lisa’s body gently. They tumbled around for a little while, touching sighing, moaning.

“What’s your name again?” The woman bit her lip as Lisa pinned her down.

“If I told you that,” she leaned forward to whisper into her ear, “I’d have to kill you.”

The woman giggled, slapping her arm gently. Lisa claimed her lips once more, exploring her mouth languidly, letting her hands roam and grope at all her sensitive parts. Her touch moved down, down, down-

“Lalisa!”

The woman jerked back in surprise at the booming voice reverberating through the apartment. “Who is that?” her eyes were wide with concern.

“Brace yourself,” Lisa warned and right one cue her bedroom door crashed open loudly, revealing Augustus decked out in his usual black attire.

“Lisa, fuck-!” he stopped, his hand shooting up to cover his eyes, realizing what he’d just walked into. “Jesus Christ.”

“ _Fuck_ is right. I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” Lisa responded flatly, entirely unperturbed at the intrusion. The woman beneath her gasped out a _what in the holy hell,_ trying to pull the covers over them properly.

“Put some clothes on for the love of the lord almighty,” he instructed, blindly pointing a finger in her general direction, “We need to talk.” He slammed the door closed behind him.

Lisa rolled off her companion and chuckled.

“Who was that?” The woman asked, looking frazzled as she sat up.

“Oh, him?” she waved a careless hand, “That was just my creepy uncle. He likes to show up unannounced sometimes. It’s his thing.”

The woman looked at her in bewilderment, opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, seeming to think better of it. She got up to dress. Lisa fell back into the pillows.

She loved women, but annoying Augustus was something she maybe loved a little more.

* * *

“Besides your weird, creepy uncle walking in on us,” the woman said as Lisa walked her to the door, “I had a really good time.”

Lisa squeezed out the most genuine smile she could. “Me too.”

“Call me?” The woman slipped a small piece of paper into Lisa’s hand as she placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek.

Lisa looked down at the phone number scribbled onto the crumpled slip of paper. “Sure,” she lied.

They bid farewell. Lisa closed the door with a sigh of relief before making her way to the living room where Augustus was sitting on the arm of her couch indignantly.

“ _Your weird, creepy uncle_?” He repeated, obviously rather offended.

“How else am I supposed to explain who you are?” She shrugged, crumpling the woman’s number in her fist before dropping it into the bin behind the kitchen counter. “The guy who provides me with people to assassinate?” She opened the fridge and took out a carton of eggs.

“You could’ve at least warned me you had company,” he sighed, standing and slowly moving forward to the other side of the counter. “Would’ve saved me from the embarrassment.”

Lisa shrugged. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Forget it.” Augustus shook his head, “We have more important matters to discuss.”

“Like what?” she frowned as she inspected the egg in her hand. “Are they meant to still have feathers on them-“

“Lalisa,” Augustus sighed. “Focus.”

“No, I’m serious,” she insisted. “It can’t be sanitary to have a chicken’s ass hair on the-“

He plucked the egg from her hand, shoved it back into the carton, and closed it over abruptly. “You killed a Korean NIS Agent.”

Lisa looked at him blankly, not understanding the fuss. “And?”

“He was one of the head detectives at the Seoul precinct,” Augustus emphasized.

“Yeah. So? He got in the way. I took care of it.” She planted her hands onto the white marble countertop and looked back at him pointedly.

“He was off limits.” He matched her gaze.

“He showed up unexpectedly. Would you rather me let him kill me?”

“That wasn’t the only issue.” He wagged a finger in her face. “We told you to make Mary Jang’s death look like a suicide.”

“Did I not do that?” Lisa blinked.

“So, she shot two officers?”

“Yup.”

“And slit the throat of an NIS agent?”

Lisa nodded, “It happens.”

“And then slit her own throat?”

“It’s not impossible.”

“Lisa,” he sighed, massaging at the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t do what you were told.”

“You gave me someone to kill, Augustus, and I did just that.” She opened the carton of eggs again and lifted a frying pan that was hanging over the cooker. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The organization are not happy with you.”

Lisa stopped what she was doing. Mentions of the organization were not a good thing. She was employed by this ominous organization, and while she was in no way scared of them, she also knew that if they wanted to dispose of her, they would and they could. “Are they going to punish me?”

“Luckily for you, the only thing they’re giving you is a break.”

Lisa turned back to him, irked. She loathed breaks. They were so boring. “How long?”

“They didn’t say. But from what I can tell, they think you killing this agent will make the NIS even more aggressive in their pursuit to find you. They want to slow the operation down, let things cool off so the NIS lose any trail they’ve managed to piece together.” He scratched at his beard. “So, you should stay put. No travelling.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime, then?”

Augustus jutted out his bottom lip in a sign of who knows. “Why don’t you learn a new language?”

“I already speak five,”

“Then another one won’t hurt, will it?” He smiled at her for the first time that morning. “Just relax. Think of it as a vacation. Read a book. Have some more of your friends round, like that girl form earlier.” He gave her a cheeky grin and made his way to the front door to leave. “Remember what I said,” he called, “Stay put.”

Lisa listened to the door shut, and looked around at the wide expanse of her penthouse apartment, expensive and chic, but quiet. She put the eggs onto boil, set the timer, and sauntered back to her bedroom. She picked up the trousers she was wearing that night, and pulled out the small photograph of the pretty lady she’d taken from the detective’s wallet.

She gazed down at it, and felt her lips tug upward. The detective’s last words came to mind: _I regret everything in my life._ And she replayed what happened after: the blood, the mess, the beauty of it.

And then she thought about when she’d left that building and found that same pretty woman from the photograph in her pocket, who had unknowingly broken a heart, just standing there. She replayed that too: her look, her eyes, the beauty of her.

* * *

“Kwon Jiyong was an honorable man,” Mino said, addressing the funeral congregation as they all sat in the church steeples, dressed in black, shrouded in grief. He was adorned in a long coat with a gold NIS pin shining on its lapel, his hair slicked back with a copious amount of gel. “He was passionate about his work and always made sure to go the extra mile.”

Jennie wanted to scoff, knowing full and well how much Jiyong had despised Mino. He would’ve hated this bullshit speech. Mino never cared about Jiyong. Mino didn’t even really know Jiyong, who he was or what he cared about. Mino knew nothing and yet there he was giving a half-baked speech at Jiyong’s funeral.

_Jiyong’s funeral._

The words still didn’t sound right together. She blinked and looked around, still in disbelief that the day had really come and that she was really here in the middle of it all.

Her boyfriend placed his hand over hers in an attempt to comfort her. It was the third time he’d done so during the service, but each time, she only found herself withdrawing further away. His hand felt too heavy, too warm, She wanted to shake him off her. She wanted to get up and to leave.

As Mino’s words echoed out into the church, she found herself thinking about the other night in the office where she and Jiyong had stayed up late, trying to find a lead on this assassin. She remembered what he’d said to her then: _“_ _You’re the best person I know. I might not listen to your crazy theories all the time, but you’re really talented. I can’t wait for the world to see it.”_

She closed her eyes, feeling fresh tears squeezing out from between her tired lids, giving way to sobs that shook her entire body.

* * *

Jennie nursed her drink. It was a martini. She hated martini’s but they were Jiyong’s favorite. She smiled briefly into the clear liquid, but it fell away as quickly as it came. The image of Jiyong’s face kept coming to her – random moments that they shared, random things that he’d said, all the investigations that they’d worked on together. Late nights and long days, drowned in cheap instant coffee and random bursts of laughter brought on by exhaustion.

It was like death had opened up the memory bank in her brain and torn open the box labeled _Jiyong_ and let all its contents spill out into a messy heap. She took a breath, took a sip of the martini in her hand and forced herself to just be okay.

It was then her boyfriend came back from the bar with his own drink. He gave her the same concerned, sympathetic smile he’d been giving her since the day she’d found Jiyong dead and bloody in that apartment.

“You okay?” he asked unnecessarily, drawing her into a half hug.

“I’m fine.” She slid out of his hold. “I’m gonna nip out for some air, okay?” Putting her drink in his hand, she walked away without waiting for a response.

The funeral reception was busy, taking place in a lounge in one of the fancier hotels in central Seoul. Jiyong’s parents had organized it. They were rich – old money, from what Jiyong had told her. As she maneuvered through the patrons, she realized how many people there were – some she recognized, some she didn’t, most of them, she assumed, were agents and staff from NIS attending in respect for their lost colleague.

As she squeezed past the buffet table, she caught eyes with Boa Kwon who was conversing lowly with a group of people from the office. Boa simply nodded toward her in a sign of silent greeting, which she returned before going through the open door of the balcony.

It was large and overlooked the city street below like a watchtower. Slowly, she moved toward the rail and gripped the cold metal in her hand and let the chatter from inside fade out for a moment.

She took a shuddering breath, feeling like the weight of a million things was pressing down on her chest. Everything felt heavy. Nothing felt right.

“Nice view, huh?”

She turned her head to see Hanbin sauntering over to her and nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

“I saw you come out here. Thought you might want some company.” He dug his hand into his pocket and took out a deck of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips and was about to put them away before Jennie stopped him.

“Can I have one?”

Hanbin shrugged and offered her the packet. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t,” she replied, “but I feel like I could use one today.”

“That’s fair.” He lit her cigarette before lighting his own. They stood for a moment in silence, which Jennie was grateful for. The last couple of days had been filled with noise and commotion, and the brief moments of silence she had been afforded were dense and heavy, as though time had paused and was lingering over her like a black cloud.

“How you holding up?” he asked, tapping some ash away.

She took the smoke into her lungs and let it sit there for a moment before letting it out. “Horribly,” she answered, not having the energy to lie.

“It’s awful. Really fucking awful.” Hanbin agreed quietly.

“I feel angry,” she admitted for the first time aloud. If anyone would understand, it was Hanbin. He, too, had been close to Jiyong. “I feel like…like he didn’t just lose his life. But that it was stolen from him. Taken unfairly.” She took a breath and another drag from the cigarette, letting the nicotine buzz in her veins.

“Do they think it was…” he trailed off, as if the words were too sharp to push past his lips. “…that woman?”

She didn’t have to ask to know that Hanbin was referring to the woman Mary Jang had described – the tall, expensive woman who murdered Son Seunghyun and hung him on a butcher’s hook in Oslo. “It’s more than likely,” she answered. “It’s too much of a coincidence not to be.”

“Huh,” he scuffed his dress shoe against the concrete. “Fuck her.”

“Yeah,” Jennie echoed, “Fuck her.”

Hanbin stared down at the cigarette in his hand. “What do we do now?”

Jennie sighed and inhaled more smoke, as if it would alleviate some of her pain. “We continue the investigation.”

“Continue?” Hanbin frowned. “Isn’t that kind of dangerous-“

“We have to,” she stated somberly. “At least, I have to. For him.” She finished off her cigarette, dropped the butt to the ground and crushed it under her foot with more force than necessary. “I’m going to find her. And I’m going to kill her. With my bare hands.”

She felt Hanbin staring at her, but she didn’t care. The woman who killed Jiyong would not walk free. Over Jennie’s dead body.

* * *

“I can’t say I was surprised when you called,” Boa said in way of greeting, approaching the table. It was mid-afternoon and the restaurant was almost empty besides the two of them. “Actually, I was more surprised that you didn’t call sooner.”

“Ms. Kwon,” Jennie stood, automatically dropping into a bow. “Thank you for joining me.” They shared a firm handshake before settling down.

The waiter came almost immediately, and they ordered two cups of coffee.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Boa said, settling into her chair. She looked immaculate, hair straight and neat, dressed in a dark brown coat and leather-heeled boots. “You want to take me up on the offer I made you before in the McDonald’s bathroom.”

Jennie nodded. “I do.”

Boa leaned forward and peered at her face curiously. “Why?”

“Because this assassin needs to be tracked down. It’s my duty as an NIS agent.” She replied coolly, trying to temper her face into something neutral.

“Are you sure it isn’t to avenge Kwon Jiyong’s death?” Boa asked just as the waiter set their coffee onto the table, leaving with a stiff bow. “Because if it is,” she continued, ripping open a packet of sugar and pouring it into the mug, “It’s very admirable. Very heroic. But it also indicates to me that you are too emotionally attached.”

“I thought you might say that.” Jennie nodded. “If I were you, I’d probably think the exact same.”

“If that’s the case then why bother asking?” Boa raised a brow, sipping her coffee.

Jennie leaned down and pulled a thick, fully packed manila folder out of her handbag. She let it slap onto the table before she slid it over to the other woman. “Because no one knows this case like I do.”

Boa’s eyes travelled slowly from Jennie’s face to the folder and back again. She set her coffee onto its saucer and flipped the file open. From her coat pocket she produced a pair of dainty reading glasses and poised them onto her nose and began leafing through the pages.

Jennie inhaled and exhaled, suddenly realising how nervous she was. “Even though I was Jiyong’s assistant, he let me work closely with him on nearly every case. I investigated it all alongside him.” She braced herself, watching Boa read through all the case files she’d compiled. Saying his name made her sad all over again. It’d been a week since the funeral – a stale, slow, stagnant week. The work had been a nice distraction, but now she wanted to throw herself into it and find justice in any way she could.

“You did this all by yourself?” Boa asked, finally removing her reading glasses and leaning back in her seat.

Jennie nodded. “Majority of it, yes.”

“Some of the cases aren’t even ones the NIS has connected to the recent string of killings.” She tapped the page in front of her inquisitively.

“I believe they’re all connected. But we never took notice until the kills started speeding up in pace.”

Boa stared at her, seeming mildly impressed. “You think it’s the same female assassin behind all of this?”

Jennie shrugged and rolled her shoulders back a little bit, her voice determined. “If you want to know what I think, Ms. Kwon, then you should recruit me into your investigation team.”

Boa smiled suddenly. Jennie had never seen her smile before. It almost looked somewhat unnatural on her face. “Meet me at the NIS headquarters tomorrow. The Sync Building, 9am. Sharp.”

* * *

“Lalisa Manoban,” Dara smiled as she came in. “Looking as ugly as ever.”

“Dara,” Lisa grinned in response, stepping into the large gymnasium filled with various pieces of gym equipment from weights, apparatus, treadmills and an array of machines. “You’re looking older by the day. Is that a new wrinkle on your forehead?”

“Always the charmer,” she delivered a jovial clap to Lisa’s shoulder. “You ready?”

Lisa answered by pulling off her hoodie and throwing it to the side, leaving her in her sports bra and leggings. She hadn’t done a physical examination in at least a year, but she was more than familiar with them. During the course of her training, Dara had spent years putting Lisa through her paces, and every month she’d be faced with a rigorous examination of her physical capabilities as well as her mental state. But that was back then. Now that she was out, working in the field, examinations like this were much less frequent.

“Good. Let’s start with your weight.” Dara led her over to the scales and gestured for her to step on.

As Dara stared at the numbers as they appeared on screen, Lisa let her eyes wander to where she knew Augustus and the other heads of the organization were observing her from, on the other side of the room through a one-way mirror.

“What did you do to land yourself in a sudden physical?” Dara asked, noting down Lisa’s weight onto her clipboard.

“I killed three NIS agents. One of them was the head detective. And the target I was supposed to kill wasn’t done so in the method they requested.” Lisa answered, smiling a little.

Dara whistled as she stepped off the scale. “Feeling rebellious were we?”

Lisa spread her arms and flexed so Dara could inspect her body more closely with a tape measure. “They were collateral damage. I did what was necessary.”

“I see,” Dara nodded. “So they want to get you checked to see if you not following their orders was due to you not being physically able to.”

She straightened up as Dara rolled the tape measure back up, and pulled out a small flash light. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. I’m not worried.”

“You never are.” Dara chuckled lightly, shining the light into Lisa’s eyes. “You’ll show them, Lisa. You always do.” She clicked the torch off and gave her a knowing look. “Go get warmed up. We’re doing agility first.”

Lisa smiled and, on this occasion, did as told.

* * *

As she sprinted, she thought about her childhood, or lack thereof. The treadmill was whirring loudly as she pumped her legs as fast as she physically could, and it reminded her of the first time she’d ever done a sprint in a physical examination like this. She’d been fifteen and she hadn’t been able to run for more than two minutes without her lungs feeling like they were going to burst.

And now, nearly nine years later, she was running again, and her lungs were burning but there was a masochistic kind of pleasure in it. As she pushed and pushed, as Dara upped the speed, she felt her old self fade from her train of thought. All she could see was her own reflection staring back at her in the mirror. Large, dark eyes, full lips, pert nose, face sheen with sweat, a body laden with healed scars, a body capable of anything.

Dara’s timer began beeping. “Jesus-fucking-Christ,” she heard her mumble. “I’m pretty sure that’s a new record.” She dialed the machine down, allowing Lisa to slow to a jog, and then to a walk, before finally stopping.

Lisa hopped onto solid ground, the adrenaline hot and high in her veins, feeling as though she could sprint a million more times despite the fatigue evident in her muscles. The examination was nearly over. She’d done weights, knife throwing, gun shooting, gymnastics, and now sprints – each task rigorous and beyond difficult – but she’d completed each one with a practiced expertise. And now, there was one last test to complete.

She took a glug of water from a nearby bottle and tried to catch her breath. Dara was scribbling on her clipboard. “I think that’s the longest sprint you’ve ever done. Way above the benchmark.”

“Did you expect any less?” she swallowed down some more water before tightening her ponytail.

“Your confidence is both parts impressive and nauseating.” Dara shook her head. “Combat is the last thing on the list. You know what to do.”

She shook out her arms and legs and approached the crisp white mat in the center of the room. Dara blew a whistle and summoned a burly looking man from the only entrance into the gym. They both took their places opposite one another.

“Lisa, this is Hector. He is our top scoring trainee and volunteered to be your combat partner,” Dara introduced. Lisa simply nodded at him, unfazed, unimpressed.

“You volunteered for this?” she smirked, poising herself into position. The man said nothing. He raised his fists and readied his stance. “Very bad idea.”

Not giving the man time to think, Lisa launched herself into action with a swift punch to his stomach and an uppercut to his stubbly chin. He caught her by the wrist, twisting her arm behind her back with a brutish force, but before he could snap her limb in two, she jerked forward and head-butted him squarely in the mouth, and when he didn’t let go, she did it two more times until he stumbled back.

She wiped his blood from her forehead, blocking a high kick, which lead into a complicated series of close combat punches, hooks, jabs and dodges. He grabbed her by the leg and attempted to throw her, but she landed on her feet, twisted her body round and drove her heel into his eye socket. He yelled out in pain, his grip loosening on her. She broke free from him, gripped him by his shirt and belt and flung him to the ground. She heard the wind leave his chest upon impact. Before he could get up, she stomped down onto his ribs, once, twice, and then dropped down, trapping his arms under her knees. She grinned as she clutched his collar in her left fist and drew her right fist back and punched him. And punched him, punched again, switched hands, and punched him again, two more times, three more times – each blow accompanied by a satisfying crunch under the hardness of her knuckles. She did not stop until his face was unrecognizable – until he stopped struggling.

She stood, knowing the fight had been won. From the sidelines, Dara gave a slow applause and joined her in looking down at the man’s face, which now resembled nothing more than a pile of bloody flesh, dripping and smearing onto the mat below him.

“You were always my best student,” Dara commented, hooking an arm around Lisa’s neck. “There hasn’t been another like you. And there probably never will be.” She beamed. “Most decline after a certain age, but you only continue to get stronger.” Lisa looked at her as her arm fell away. They turned to face one another. Dara lowered her voice slightly, placing gentle hands onto Lisa’s shoulders. “I don’t think they realise what they’re dealing with when it comes to you. Just remember – you hold more power in your body than all of them combined.”

Lisa nodded as Dara pulled away. She looked down again at the man she’d just beaten, barely breathing, and felt that familiar feeling swell up inside of her. It was a dangerous thing to know and to understand that there was probably no one in the world who could touch her. She could take away a life and only feel powerful about it.

* * *

The Sync Building was the one place at the NIS headquarters that she’d never ventured into in all her years of working there. Nobody really knew what went on inside the Sync Building other than that it was reserved for the most secret, close-knit of investigations. It was a small, square, dull-looking structure, nestled behind the main NIS building where she usually worked.

She took a breath and braced herself. This was new territory, a new role with new people – or so she suspected. Boa hadn’t actually told her what she would be doing or if she had even accepted Jennie into the investigation team to begin with. But Jennie had a blind kind of faith that she had convinced Boa enough to give her a chance.

As she passed through the glass doors she flashed her badge to the security guard who simple nodded and gestured her in the direction of the reception desk.

“Miss Kim,” she heard a voice call. She turned to see Boa waiting for her, dressed in a white suit with golden buttons and black detailing. “Glad to see you’re here on time.”

Jennie nodded. “Thanks for inviting me.” She looked around noting that the interior of the building was not much different to the exterior.

“I’d like to show you something.” Boa had a certain glimmer in her eye as she led Jennie into the elevator.

They got off on the top floor, walked down a corridor and entered into a small office space that housed four desks and swivel chairs, each with a desktop computer, but was otherwise empty. On the furthest side of the room were floor to ceiling windows that overlooked a more residential area of Seoul. On the wall next to the door was a board decorated with various crime scene photos of the deceased, maps speckled with thumbtacks, connected with red thread.

Jennie’s jaw dropped slightly as she drifted closer to the board. “Holy shit,”

“Holy shit is quite right, Miss Kim.” Boa agreed, standing next to her.

“I feel like I just walked into the inside of my brain,” she muttered, gazing at the photos that she was now very familiar with.

“It appears that you and I have the same hunch about this female assassin,” Boa said.

Jennie looked at her, hopeful. “Does this mean you’re giving me a chance?”

Boa extended a hand, which Jennie did not hesitate to take. “Welcome to Operation Red Strike, Miss Kim. You shall meet your teammates tomorrow.”

Jennie exhaled a breath of relief, thanking Boa profusely for the opportunity. As she left, a strange rush of excitement came over her like a gust of wind. She pinched her eyes shut and thought of Jiyong. She pinched her eyes shut once more and thought of the woman she was going to be tracking down, of the woman who had stolen her best friend’s life.

It made her angry and sad and guilty and exhilarated, all at the same time, all in one ugly, ugly concoction.

* * *

Lisa closed the front door. Shopping bags with luxury brands stamped on the front hung from her elbow, as she fingered through her mail. Finding nothing of importance, she threw the letters onto the table in the hallway along with her keys.

She traipsed into the living room, and stopped in her tracks when she saw Augustus sitting on her couch, waiting for her. The expression on his face was pleasant, but also rather unreadable, like he had a secret to tell her.

“Huh,” she looked him up and down, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. You look…”

“Nice?” he supplied. “Handsome?”

“I was going to say fatter, but you know,” she clicked past him in her heels to her bedroom, “whatever suits.”

She heard him chuckle as she placed the bags into her closet and hung up her jacket. When she came back, he was standing by the kitchen counter, an expectant look on his face. It’d been a week and a half since she’d been on this break and three days since the physical examination – and she hadn’t heard a word from him once, which was very unusual.

“Unless you’re here to tell me that I passed the physical and can start working again, I’d rather you just leave while you can,” she knocked shoulders with him and opened the fridge. “Your face is beginning to look like a ham. And you know how much I hate ham.”

“You passed the physical.” He said, watching as she poured fruit juice into a cup. “Your scores are the highest we’ve ever seen.”

“Of course they are,” she took a sip and looked at him like it was obvious. “I’m amazing. Can I start working again?”

“You can. But they want you to see the psychologist first and get checked.” His tone was careful, as though stepping onto a frozen over pond made of very thin ice.

She set her glass down onto the counter with a loud clink. “Why?”

Augustus fixed her with a serious look. “They’re worried about you.”

“I already told you what happened with the last kill. It wasn’t my fault-“

“I know that.” He tried to reason, coming forward and smoothing his hands down her upper arms in a fatherly manner. “But it’s not my call. I’m just the messenger.”

“Sure you are.” She replied, her tone sarcastic. Briskly, she whipped his hands off her. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”

“Lisa I can’t-“

Within a blink, the sharp point of a blade was being pressed to the tip of his nose – cold and steely.

“If I kill you,” Lisa began, her voice dangerously low, looking at him over the edge of her knife, “they’ll just send me someone else.”

“You’d kill me?” He questioned, pressing a hand to his chest, swallowing down thickly.

“Of course I would,” she replied, her answer automatic. She let the knife drop to his throat. “In a heartbeat.”

He cleared his throat. “Lisa-“

“If you want to live, tell me the truth.” She demanded calmly, but the astringent edge to her words was unmissable. “Why are they stopping me from working and putting me through physical examinations and trips to the psychologist?”

“Alright, alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, shrinking back slightly. “I’ll tell you. But can we talk without the knife? You’re making me feel like a kebob.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, dropping her weapon with a metallic clatter. “Fine. You’re so boring.”

They settled onto the couch next to one another. Lisa tilted her head as Augustus seemed to collect his thoughts. He reached into his jacket and took out a small photograph, weathered at the edges.

“Where did you get this picture?” He turned the photo around for her to see, watching her face intently.

Lisa looked at the photograph of the pretty woman being shown to her. It had gone missing a few days ago but now she was realising that it just gone missing. She wondered briefly how he’d gotten his hands on it, but knew there were many possible answers. “You went through my things?”

“Where did you get it?” he repeated.

She swiped the picture from his hand and looked at it more closely, appreciating the woman’s smile, the straight rows of her teeth, the pinkness of her gums. “It was in the wallet of the detective I killed. I kept it because it was pretty.”

“Do you know who she is?”

Lisa looked from the photograph to Augustus, trying to piece together a connection. _Why’s he so concerned with this woman?_ “He said she was his colleague. He kept a picture of her because he was secretly in love with her.”

“He told you that?” Augustus frowned, skeptical.

Lisa nodded plainly. “People get chatty when they know they’re going to die.”

“Are you telling me the truth, Lisa?” His pale blue eyes scrutinized her closely, as though she were some kind of code that needed deciphering.

“Why would I lie?” She stared back at him unflinchingly, trying to pick apart the look on his face to unveil the truth beneath. “Who is this woman?”

Augustus was silent for a moment before he finally spoke. “You’re right. She was his colleague.”

“But?” she prompted. “There must be more to it.”

“This woman is now leading an investigation team in Seoul focused only on finding you.”

Lisa stilled for a moment and simply stared at him. Slowly, a smile began to upturn her rouged lips. “No way.”

“Lisa, this isn’t a good thing.” He said, looking troubled at the apparent elation on her face.

“What’s her name?” she asked, ignoring his words.

“Lisa-“

“Tell me. I’m just curious.” She urged, mischievously.

“You’ve got your excited face on. And your excited face is never a good sign. It means you’re about to do something bad.” He waved a reprimanding finger at her.

“I swear I won’t do anything bad,” she pouted a little, her eyes wide and deceivingly innocent. “The more information I have, the better I can protect myself.”

He huffed, the look in his face exasperated. “Jennie Kim. Her name is Jennie Kim.”

“Jennie Kim,” she sounded out slowly, enjoying the sound of it. “It’s a nice name.”

“We have to be on high alert. We don’t know what they know, but it’s a very tight-knit operation which is not a good sign.” He got to his feet, and turned back to her as she looked up at him. “Don’t let this get to your head. If you get caught, you know what that means. It means no work, which means no money, which means no nice clothes, no nice apartment, no pretty women to sleep with – it means going back to prison. And you don’t want that, do you Lalisa?” he warned gravely.

“Of course not, Augustus.” She shook her head, giving him that same angelic look that would be convincing if he didn’t know otherwise.

He left, only after trying to scare her with more fruitless threats. She simply waved him off and closed the door behind him. Alone once more, she danced her way to her bedroom and fell into the cushiony softness of her duvet.

She looked at the photograph again.

“Jennie Kim…” she whispered, feeling each and every syllable with her tongue carefully – tasting it as though it were fruit juice or a sweet red wine.

_Jennie, Jennie, Jennie. I wonder if I’ll end up killing you too?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading. This chapter was more of an exploration of Jennie and Lisa's situations and individuals. Next instalment promises a bit more action. Remember, comments and feedback is what keeps me going ;)


	4. Lemons Don't Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa is back on the job, accompanied by an old friend. Jennie receives a note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. It turned out way longer than I expected. It also probably needs a lot more editing, but I can do that later. Hope you all enjoy and remember to comment your thoughts after :)

Jennie inhaled and stared at the hardwood door for a moment. She couldn’t put it into so many words, but all she knew was that her stomach was wrought with this jittery feeling, like her gut was trying to jump out of her mouth. She could hear voices inside, muffled talking, and had the sudden urge to turn around and walk away and forget it. Forget everything. She was determined, so determined to set things right for Jiyong, but she was also terrified. She’d never really done anything like this without him.

She inhaled again, exhaled again.

_You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. Jiyong, Jiyong, Jiyong._

Straightening herself up, puffing out her chest, she finally raised a fist, gave a series of quick knocks and opened the door. The chatter in the room paused as she stepped inside. Three pairs of eyes peered back at her inquisitively.

“Ah, Miss Kim,” Boa stood from where she was leaning on the edge of a desk. “You’re here.”

Jennie dipped into a bow. “Hello. Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”

“It’s quite alright,” Boa nodded, her eyes travelling to the two unnamed occupants in the room. “Let me introduce you to the team.”

Jennie looked around to see two women rising from their swivel chairs and approaching her.

“This is Jennie Kim,” Boa said, addressing the two women while gesturing to Jennie. “She worked under head detective Kwon Jiyong in the first phase of this investigation and will be taking the lead of this operation in his stead.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Kim,” one of the women, blonde-haired and rather pretty, with round, delicate features, stepped forward and gripped her hand in a warm shake. “I’m Park Chaeyoung. Or Roseanne Park. Or Rosie. Or Rosé. Just whatever you want to call me, really.” She gave a light laugh. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Chaeyoung, lovely to meet you.” She smiled, “And please, call me Jennie.”

The other woman stepped forward.

“I’m Jisoo. Kim Jisoo.” She said and that was all she said. Her voice had a pleasant husk but no intonation. She stuck out a hand which Jennie took without hesitation. She, too, was rather pretty, with dark hair that fell around her nicely sculpted face in gentle waves.

“Jisoo is a woman of few words,” Boa said, completing the circle. “But she essentially lives in the internet. She can hack anything, anyone, and scale any digital wall you need.”

“It’s true,” Chaeyoung chimed in, casting a fond look over at Jisoo who simply nodded and went back to her desk.

“Chaeyoung, on the other hand, is most likely the most intelligent person you’ll ever meet. Incredibly smart, intuitive and creative. She’s what you’d call an ace in the NIS world.” Boa continued to praise.

“You’re too kind, Ms. Kwon.” Chaeyoung gave a sincere smile before slipping away back to her computer.

“And that’s the team,” Boa turned to Jennie again. “I expect you to get them up to speed on what you know, and vice versa.”

“Of course,” Jennie nodded quickly, “But I was wondering…” she trailed off, unsure if she would be stepping out of line asking the question she wanted to ask.

As if sensing her hesitance, Boa led her to the other side of the room to give them some space. “Wondering what, Miss Kim?”

“I was wondering if I might be able to make my own addition to the team?” she pressed her lips together nervously.

Boa raised a brow. “And who might this new addition be?”

“Kim Hanbin. We worked alongside one another in the main building. I think he’d fit in quite well.” She crossed her fingers inside her pocket.

“What could he bring to the investigation?” Boa tilted her head, waiting.

“Well, uh,” Jennie laughed a little, “He is kinda funny. Funny looking, that is.”

“Yes, humor is very important in this field.” Boa replied, entirely serious. “The truth is, Miss Kim, you are the leader of this investigation. And if you think Kim Hanbin will be of use, then by all means, if he’s willing, bring him onboard. We haven’t a moment to waste.”

“Oh, he’ll definitely be willing.”

* * *

“There’s no fucking way I’m joining that investigation.”

Her mouth fell open in dismay. “Hanbin-“ He threw the remains of his sandwich into the nearest bin and continued walking. Jennie hurried after him, dodging, as best she could, the other pedestrians on the busy street. “Why not?”

He stopped and looked at her. “Have you already forgotten that Jiyong literally died trying to go after this woman?”

“Of course not-“

“Then why are you still trying?” He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair at the affronted look on her face. “Look, I get it. You want to do this for Jiyong, which is great. But it’s way too dangerous, Jen. I have a wife to think about-“

“This is what he would want,” she cut in firmly. “He’d want us to find her.”

“How do you know that?” his face was scrunched up with confliction. “For all we know, he might’ve regretted ever getting involved.”

“We’ll never know, Hanbin. But we’ve got to do what’s right. Even if it puts us in danger.” Dejectedly, she sat down on the nearest empty bench. Silently, Hanbin followed after her.

“Walking into the firing line is doing what’s right, huh?” he slumped slightly, watching the people stride past them purposefully.

“What else are we supposed to do? Sit around and cry?” she mirrored his posture unconsciously. “What’s even the point of working for the Intelligence Service if we don’t at least try to do some good?”

“I hear you, I do.” He took a deep breath and swallowed down, as though he had something stuck in his throat. “But why do I have to be involved? You said Boa already gave you a team, you don’t need me.”

“I do, though,” Jennie looked at him with vehemence. “I want us to do this together. For Jiyong. For justice. It won’t feel right otherwise.”

“Fuck…” he mumbled. “Going for the sentimental route, huh? Low blow, Kim.”

“I’m not trying to guilt trip you,” she said apologetically. “I just…”she took a breath, trying to get her thoughts and her feelings in line, which was hard considering how much a mess everything had been the last couple of weeks. “This woman, killer, assassin, whatever you wanna call her…she killed, not just Jiyong, but three other innocent people. And so many other people before that. People who all had lives and families and futures to look forward to. She took it all away from them. And she just gets to walk free? It isn’t fair, Hanbin.”

“Nothing usually is fair, Jennie, that’s the fucked up thing.” He shifted, folding his arms against his chest tightly. “What’s in it for me? Other than, you know, being a hero and justice and avenging our dead friend and all that stuff you just said.”

She looked at him with a knowing smile. “My eternal friendship?”

He seemed to consider this for a moment before huffing out a defeated sigh. “If I die, I’m haunting you for the next seventy years.”

* * *

Lisa sat down, crossed her legs and looked across at the two men sitting before her in overstuffed chairs. Augustus gestured for the other man to begin. She knew this other man – his name was Yang and he’d been administering physiological examinations for the organization since Lisa was eighteen. She’d sat on this very couch, in this very room, a countless number of times, having gone through many sessions with him.

Physically, anybody could kill; a gun to the head, hands around a neck, knife in the gut. But mentally, emotionally, it was a different matter. Over the years, Lisa had learned that it took a very specific kind of person to take a human life and be able to be okay in the aftermath. And Lisa was that specific kind of person.

“Lisa, it’s been a while.” Yang greeted, looking over the rim of his glasses at her. “You look great. Nice to see that you dressed for the occasion.”

Lisa glanced down at her attire. She was wearing a sparkly gold three-piece suit, with a matching tie and heels. On her wrist she wore her favourite Rolex, and from her earlobes dangled diamond earrings that went along with the plethora of expensive rings decorating her fingers. It was a decadent, obnoxious, ridiculous outfit. But that was the whole point. “Oh this old thing?” She adjusted the button on her jacket nonchalantly. “I just threw it on.” Her smile dripped with sarcasm.

Yang laughed. “Still very funny, I see.”

“Yes.” She looked at him. “I am very funny.”

“Do you know the reason why you’re here?” he asked, crossing his legs, mirroring her.

“I killed some people I wasn’t supposed to kill.” Lisa shrugged. “And you want to see if I did it because I’m crazy.”

“We don’t use words like ‘crazy’ here, Lalisa, you should know that.” His voice was kind. He glanced at Augustus before his eyes flickered back to her. “But you’re right. We want to see how you’re doing mentally, emotionally.”

“Lord save me,” she rolled her eyes.

“Your last job, you said you killed people you were not instructed to. Whom did you kill?” he tilted his head.

“Yang, I’m just going to get straight to the point,” she sat forward in her seat and fixed him with a hard stare. “What happened with my last job was down to insufficient intel. I wasn’t informed about what kind of protection the target would have. I was blindsided and had to adapt, which I did, by the way, exceptionally well. It’s probably better the detective is dead anyway. Less hassle for us.”

“How did you kill him?”

“I made him get on his knees in his underwear. Then I slit his throat with a knife and watched the light fade from his eyes.” She answered unflinchingly.

“Did you talk to him?”

“He offered to get me immunity if I spared him. He told me I wasn’t going to get away with it. His last words were: ‘I regret everything in my life’.” She listed, as if she were reciting the days of the week. “A little drab, don’t you think? If I knew I was going to die, I think I’d say something a little more…” she placed a finger to her lip in thought, “…jazzy, you know? Like ‘Hey you wanna see a dead body?’ and then just fucking-”

“How did you feel when he said those things?” Yang questioned, bypassing her reverie.

“Amused,” she responded, smiling slightly.

“What about this photograph?” He leaned forward and placed the picture of Jennie Kim onto the coffee table between them.

“I already told Augustus. I found it in the detective’s wallet.” She gestured to said man who had been sitting silently and watching from the corner.

“How does the picture make you feel?” He asked delicately.

Taking a breath, Lisa picked up the photograph and looked at it. _Jennie Kim_. _Pretty Jennie Kim._ She imagined the look on her face when she found Kwon Jiyong’s body. Her mouth upturned just a fraction.

“It makes me feel,” she laughed airily, “wide awake.”

* * *

Jennie glanced around at the three pairs of eyes staring back at her expectantly, and suddenly had no idea what she was doing. _How did Jiyong make this look so easy?_ She cleared her throat and forced a smile onto her face, lacing her fingers together.

“So,” she began, trying to sound as jovial as possible, “Welcome, everyone, to our first team meeting.” Hanbin gave an unnecessary _whoop-whoop_ from his swivel chair that made Jennie want to face palm herself. “Jisoo, Chaeyoung, I take it you’ve already met Hanbin?”

The two women in question nodded.

“He gave us an already-opened packet of warm gummy bears as a greeting present.” Jisoo explained stoically.

“At least it was something, right boss?” Hanbin urged her to back him up.

“Okay firstly, don’t call me boss. I’m not the boss, Boa Kwon is. And secondly,” she looked at Hanbin more sternly this time, “Half-eaten, warm gummy bears are never an acceptable gift. On any occasion.”

Hanbin scoffed, folding his arms. “Haters gon’ hate.”

“Swiftly moving on,” she segued into the real reason for this meeting, “let’s start establishing what we already know, so we can move forward with our next steps.”

“Great idea,” Chaeyoung agreed, balancing a notebook on her lap, ready to take notes. Jisoo simply nodded, face neutral and expressionless, while Hanbin gave a thumbs up, sitting slouched in his chair.

She looked at the board behind her, decorated with the various pictures of the deceased and their crime scenes, twined together in red string across a large map of the world. It struck her suddenly just how wide and far it reached, different countries, different continents. She was both impressed and fearful. Where was she even supposed to begin?

“Jennie?” Hanbin prompted. “You okay?”

She blinked, not realising she’d fallen into a daze. “Yes, sorry. I’m fine. I was just-“ she tried to gesticulate with her hands to convey what she meant, “you know, lost in thought for a second there.”

“You were about to establish what we already know,” Chaeyoung prompted gently, giving Jennie an encouraging look.

“Right, yes,” she pointed at Chaeyoung gratefully, “Thank you.” She clapped her hands and forced herself to slip into a façade that was at least a tad professional. “What we already know is that there is an assassin who has killed several high-profile politicians and socialites globally – all of whom were linked to various governments in Asia. Mainly Korean, Japanese and Thai officials. We also know from our late witness, Mary Jang, that the assassin was a woman. Mary described the assassin as having long dark hair, a pretty face, a slim, athletic build and as being a little above average height. Expensive was another word Mary used, so we can assume this woman is being paid a hefty amount for her work. Mary also confirmed that she heard the woman speaking Korean which leaves us open to the assumption that the assassin can speak multiple languages, given the international nature of her kills, and could possibly be Korean, too.”

“Are you saying she’s responsible for _all_ of these kills?” Chaeyoung asked, biting down on the end of her pen.

“She might be, or she might not be. We have no evidence of her being present at any of the kills other than Son Seunghyun’s murder in Oslo. So, it could be possible that it’s not just her, but other assassins too.” Jennie explained.

“Do you think it could be an organization?” Hanbin voiced.

“It’s possible,” she nodded. “The fact of the matter is, we know very little. But what we do know is that many of these kills have a certain flair.” She glanced back again as the photos of all the assassinated targets and felt a momentary tingle in her chest. “There isn’t a pattern per se, but there’s a style. It’s rather obnoxious, loud. Messy at times, but not sloppy.”

“A pretty female assassin with expensive taste and stylish killing methods,” Jisoo summarized emotionlessly. “Sexy.”

“Damn right, Jisoo,” Hanbin held his hand up for a high five, which Jisoo looked at for a moment before ignoring.

“So, how should we proceed?” Chaeyoung asked, eyebrows creased.

“That is a very good question, Chaeyoung.” She swallowed down. The truth was, she didn’t really know how to proceed. She didn’t have an action plan, or a strategy. She didn’t even have experience leading a team. _Fuck, what am I doing here?_ She forced on a smile and forced that horrible overwhelming feeling back down her throat. “I think the best thing we can do is have another look at what we’ve already got and see if we can find anything that was missed the first time around.”

“Yes, boss.” Hanbin saluted.

“Let’s take five and then we can make a start,” she said before excusing herself to the bathroom.

As she traipsed down the corridor toward the restroom, she tried to figure out what Jiyong would do. He was a good leader. He always knew how to get people on his side and he always had a next step.

_Oh, god. Jiyong. Why aren’t you here to tell me what to do?_

She thought back to the last time she saw him, trying to picture his face, the slope of his mouth. He’d been stressed and tense, she remembered.

As she approached the lavatories, a woman was coming out at the same time. Seeing Jennie approach, the woman held the door open for her, smiling briefly as Jennie brushed by her.

It was only when the bathroom door clattered closed, she remembered. She inhaled sharply, the memory coming back to her like a bullet being shot in her direction. She turned on her heel and near enough ran back to the office at full speed.

_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god._

As she burst through the door, her teammates looked at her in alarm.

“I’ve met her before,” she said breathlessly, “The killer. I’ve met her.”

* * *

“I told you I didn’t need a bullshit psychological evaluation.” Lisa tucked her hands into her pockets as she strolled alongside Augustus through the busy Bangkok street. It was midday and the heat was hot and sticky in the air.

“It wasn’t bullshit,” he pointed a finger at her, “It was a precaution.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she waved him off. “I’d like a bucket of fried chicken and a glass of guava juice as compensation.”

“How ‘bout a hug and a lollipop instead?” He produced the wrapped, strawberry flavored confectionary from his pocket and held it in front of her face.

She grabbed it greedily from his hand. “I’ll take a pass on the hug, thanks.”

“Just because you passed the psychological evaluation, doesn’t mean you can be rude to me.” They turned the corner onto a quieter street and slowed to a stop beside a parked car.

Lisa crushed the wrapper in her fist and chucked it carelessly onto the pavement before popping the lollipop into her mouth. “You just have that kind of face, you know. Like you’re asking to be made fun of.” She winked at him, letting the sweet bulge into her left cheek.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he narrowed his eyes at her. “Because it balances out the fact you’re very annoying.”

“All I’m hearing is that I’m cute.” She removed the lollipop from her mouth and inspected it, letting it glisten in the sunlight. “Which I can only agree with.”

He sighed and shook his head. From the inside of his jacket he pulled out a postcard with a red double decker bus on the front and handed it to her. “London. In two days.”

She snatched it from him excitedly, and threw the lollipop aside having lost interest. “About time.”

“But you won’t be doing this one alone.”

Her excitement evaporated just as quickly as it had materialized. She glared at him in dismay. “What do you mean?”

“It’s too dangerous-“

“Oh, now you’re concerned about safety?” she scoffed.

“Fine. Okay.” He held his hands up in surrender. “They want to keep an eye on you. Think of it as one last examination.” He shrugged. “Play nice with your colleague and you’ll be off the hook until the next time you kill someone you’re not supposed to. Which probably won’t take long.”

“You know I work alone.” She looked at him seriously.

“Well,” he smiled a little, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the organization’s choice of partner.”

She squinted at him. “Who is it?”

“Just your ex-girlfriend.”

“My ex?” her eyebrows drew together in thought.

“Your ex.” Augustus confirmed.

“Which one?” she questioned.

“How many do you have?”

She shrugged. “A considerable amount.”

“Okay it doesn’t matter-“

“Is she hot?” she tilted her head in genuine curiosity. “Does she have massive-“

“Okay, Lalisa, enough.” He rubbed at his forehead tiredly.

“What?” she gaped. “I want to know who it is.”

“You’ll find out when you get there. Have a good time in London. And I’ll see you there.” He took out a pair of car keys and unlocked the sleek black vehicle they were standing next to. “What do they say in Britain?” he asked as he opened the car door, and got halfway in, “Cheerio?”

“I think it’s more like bloody wanker, actually,” she waved.

“Well, alright then,” he chuckled and waved back, “Bloody wanker! Cheerio!”

She watched him drive off and join the traffic on the main road before beginning to walk back to her penthouse. She pondered over some new and some old methods of killing - _knives or guns or rope? Maybe a machete?_ – and then, as she rode the elevator up to the top floor, she thought about her exes and which ones probably hated the her the most. The answer was all of them.

* * *

“The night Jiyong died,” she sat down at her desk and her teammates crowded around her, listening keenly. “I was about to call him so he could buzz the door, but before I could, it opened and this woman came out. She held the door for me.” Her breath stuttered in her chest at the memory of it, of her. “In the mess of it all it totally slipped my mind.”

“Okay, but,” Hanbin held his hands up to his chest as if to signal that they needed to slow down. “That woman you saw could’ve just been a resident at the apartment building, or a delivery person, or visiting someone who lived there. You can’t jump to the assumption that it was the assassin.”

“You’re right,” Jennie nodded, shaking her head and trying to control her excitement. “But she matched the description perfectly.”

“There are a lot of pretty, above average height women out there,” Jisoo said diplomatically.

“Again, very true,” Jennie stood up and looked around at them all. “Either way, whether it was the killer or not, it’s a start. This woman might’ve seen or heard something.”

They all nodded, agreeing silently.

“Right then, let’s get to it.” She took a breath. “Jisoo, could you see if there’s any CCTV inside or around that apartment building. We need to get a visual of her.”

Jisoo nodded, already on her way back to her computer, “Might take me a minute, but I’ll get on it.”

“Great.” She turned to Chaeyoung who was standing, clutching her notebook to her chest. “Chaeyoung, I’d like you to get in touch with the residences of the apartment building and see if that woman lives there or if any of the tenants know her. Go there if you have to.”

Chaeyoung nodded and set off to work diligently.

“What do you need to me to do, boss?” Hanbin came to stand beside her.

“Stop calling me boss. I need you to set up a facial composite so I can describe what this woman. If I’m right, we’ll need a good idea of what her face looks like.” She turned to him when he didn’t respond, and found that he was looking right back at her. There was a small, affectionate, smile on his face. “What? Why are you staring at me? Do you I have a pickle on my cheek again?”

Hanbin shook his head, smiling still. “It’s nothing. It’s just-…” he tapered off.

Jennie lowered her hand from her face. “Just?”

“I think Jiyong would be really proud of you, Jen.” He touched her shoulder. “You’re doing great.”

“Thanks,” She cleared her throat, her insides suddenly felt tender. Hanbin moved away to carry out his duties, but Jennie found that she could only stand there. She looked at the three of them, busy and focused, and for the first time it occurred to her that she could do this. She could actually do this.

* * *

London opened up in front of her like a monochrome picture book as she stepped out onto the busy street. She glanced around at the pedestrians, and inhaled the city fumes, reeking of petrol and the fish & chip shop on the corner. She sauntered among the locals and the tourists alike, hands in her pockets, glancing into store windows occasionally to see if anything took her fancy.

She liked London. It was kind of miserable in some places, but vibrant with culture in others. As she walked she heard at least three different languages being spoken as people passed her by. She supposed cities like this were considered what they called melting pots. But Lisa didn’t know much about pots or what tended to melt in them unless it was in relation to inflicting pain on her prey. To her, cities reminded her more of hoards of rats flocking around for scraps in a big concrete cage.

She chuckled a little to herself, finding the thought quite clever.

Crossing the road, she traversed a little further down before turning onto a residential street. She stopped in front of a seemingly random door of a semi-detached house that had been converted into flats, jingling the keys as she entered.

Having memorized Augustus’ directions, she strode down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. The door to the flat was open. As soon as she stepped inside she felt the cool metal of a gun being pressed to the side of her head.

She smiled. “Missed me, have you?”

She heard a familiar giggle. “You wish.”

She expected the gun to move but it didn’t, only pressed harder against her skull. Her brow raised; she strained her eye to look at the figure in her peripheral. “You gonna pull that trigger or are we just going to stand here like lemons.”

“Lemons don’t stand.”

“They do if you put shoes on them.” She countered. The gun dropped. Lisa finally turned her head to look at the face she once knew so well.

“Lalisa,” it came out as a whisper.

“Sana,” she turned to her, letting her eyes drop to what she was wearing: a sexy black corset and stockings, a feathery boa draped over her shoulders. “You dressed up for me?” She bit her lip and advanced forward until Sana’s back was pressed to the wall.

“Please,” Sana scoffed matching the intensity of her gaze. “As if I’d waste an outfit like this on the likes of you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she grinned.

Sana pressed the gun to her belly, forcing her to put some distance between them. Lisa held her hands up in faux surrender. “That was when you were actually hot. You’ve let yourself go, Lalisa.”

“Oh, how you wound me, Miss Minatozaki,” she clutched at her chest, feigning a heartbreak.

“Start getting ready,” Sana threw the gun at her, which she caught reflexively, twirling it in her fingers. “We’ve only got a couple of hours to prepare.”

“When did you become so militant?” Lisa questioned, cradling the weapon, finding the weight of it strangely comforting. She took a moment to look around the flat properly. It was badly lit, curtains drawn, and plainly decorated. The air was stale, indicating that the place had gone unlived in for quite some time. The living room they were standing in was joined by a small kitchen, and a corridor that she could only assume led to the bedroom and bathroom.

Sana moved toward the kitchen counter where a mirror was propped up on a can of soup and fished out a lipstick from a makeup bag. “A lot has changed since we last saw each other. You’ll see that.”

“I can already see it.” Lisa circled her slowly and stood at the opposite side of the counter, so they were facing each other. “You grew your hair out and got hotter.”

“How observant,” Sana quipped, not bothering to look up at her.

Lisa tilted her head, watching her, liking the fact that Sana seemed so bothered by her presence. “How many years has it been?”

Sana stopped what she was doing, her eyes still cast downward. “Three.”

“Three years,” she nodded. “You finally made it out.”

Sana shot her a piercing gaze. “No thanks to you.”

“You can’t still be mad about that.”

“You broke my nose, Lisa,” Sana looked at her in disbelief.

She shrugged innocently, “And luckily for you it healed beautifully.”

“And then you aimed a gun between my eyes.”

“But did I pull the trigger?”

Sana shook her head. “You’re still as full of shit now as you were back then.”

“You missed me,” Lisa’s lip twitched as she leaned her elbows onto the counter. “I can tell.”

Sana just looked at her, long and indiscernible. Lisa was unfazed. She had no regrets, no inklings, no sorrow. No feelings. Seeing Sana again didn’t dredge anything up from the past. Looking at her was like looking at anyone – only difference was that she knew Sana’s most intimate parts, physically and emotionally. But Lisa saw it as merely a matter of the fact. It was nothing more.

Sana leaned down and swiped something out of a bag from the floor, shoving it into Lisa’s chest with a little more vigor than necessary.

“Ouch,” Lisa whined, looking down at what Sana had given her and realizing it was an outfit. She rubbed at the sore spot. “Be gentle. You could’ve bruised my booby.”

“Keep annoying me and you’ll have worse things to worry about than a bruised boob.” Sana walked away from her, disappearing into one of the bedrooms.

She heard the door click closed. She laughed to herself. The silence settled in around her like an old friend, like Sana used to back then. And suddenly time felt like a physical thing she could grab onto, drain the life out of, and leave to hang like a pale corpse on her shoulder.

But she shrugged it off like an worn coat, like a snake emerging from an old skin, and put her mask on for the night.

* * *

There were four targets. Men. Two Thai government officials and two Chinese government officials. All four were ugly. Lisa wondered, idly, as she stood, balancing a silver tray in her hand, if there were any men who weren’t ugly. Because even if there was no ugly physically present, in her experience, she found that most men held an ugliness within and it usually showed through actions that were just as, or even more so, ugly.

Her eyes darted around for Sana, seeking out her head of dark hair among the various patrons milling around in expensive suits and dresses, nursing fancy drinks in crystal glassware. She quickly fixed a smile on her face as a woman came forward and requested a glass of Russian Standard on ice.

She bowed slightly, “Of course, ma’am.” Before swiftly moving away to the bar on the other side of the room, her eyes searching for Sana through the crowd.

The mission was simple. The four targets were attending an exclusive soiree on the top floor of a disgustingly gaudy building in central London. It was the kind of exclusive that called for escorts and tight-lipped servants and private rooms behind velvet curtains. Sana was posing as an escort, her task to lure their targets into a private room. Lisa was posing as a tight-lipped servant, ears attuned to every beck and call of their esteemed clientele.

She gave the order to the bartender who nodded and went to work wordlessly. As she waited, she continued her discreet search and soon spotted Sana on a couch with gold embroidered cushions, four men – their four targets – crowding around her, looking absolutely enamored.

Lisa held back a grimace as the ugliest of the foursome leaned to in whisper into Sana’s ear, and Sana, with the grace of a ballet dancer spinning into a pirouette, responded with a smoldering look and a breezy laugh.

Lisa looked away before she looked too long. The bartender slid the drink over to her. As Lisa delivered it to the woman who’d ordered it, movement caught her eye as she saw Sana and her horde of ugly men stand from their sitting positions.

Lisa slid her way through the patrons, just in time for her and Sana to cross paths.

“Please, Miss waitress, bring my gentlemen and I a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. We’ll be in room three.” Sana purred, winking as she squeezed Lisa’s elbow.

“Of course, madam,” her lip quirked up, watching her as she went, the targets trailing behind her like little unsuspecting ducks.

* * *

“Jennie Kim,”

She looked up from her box of chicken nuggets to find Mino standing at the edge of her table, smiling down at her. “Mino Song,” she returned.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets.

She gave an apprehensive smile. “Oh, have you?”

“I went to the Sync Building. But the guards wouldn’t let me in. Funny that, considering I am a chief NIS officer.” He chuckled but she wasn’t sure what was funny. “May I join you?”

She hadn’t seen him since Jiyong’s funeral. Her transferal from the main NIS department to Boa’s operation Red Strike had been done solely through Boa. Jennie hadn’t even really said goodbye to her old team, figuring she’d see them around the NIS campus anyway. It had only been a couple of weeks and yet, seeing Mino again stirred something uneasy inside her, reminded her of the past where Jiyong still existed. Wordlessly, she gestured for him to sit down.

“Dinner?” he nodded to the greasy box in front of her.

She nodded, and glanced around at the other occupants in the fast-food restaurant they were in. “Yeah.”

“It’s late,” he noted pointlessly.

“Mino,” she sighed, her head aching. “Since you’re my senior, I’m going to word this as politely as possible. But what’s the reason you decided to track me down at the local chicken place and disturb my meal?” She folded her arms against her chest. Like Jiyong, she had never liked Mino. Not that he had ever done anything overtly wrong, but she disliked the fact that he was never transparent, that she could never predict his next move or his real intention.

“I just realized I hadn’t spoken to you since…before.” He said, swallowing uncomfortably. The unspoken words, _before Jiyong died,_ hung heavily in the air.

“It’s not like we spoke much when he was alive anyway,” she shrugged.

“True.” He nodded. “I guess I was just a little surprised when Boa Kwon had me sign your transferal forms. I didn’t even know you and Boa spoke.”

“Why would you know who I speak to in the first place?” she crinkled her brow, the sight of Mino’s beady eyes irking her suddenly. “And I don’t see why my transferal to Boa’s team should be of any concern to you.”

He chuckled again, just as humorlessly as before. “Of course it’s my concern.” He adjusted his tie. “I’m the Chief Officer here. And a transferal that comes out of the blue, especially from the likes of Boa Kwon…is surprising.”

“Right,” she said slowly, unsure of what he was implying, but too tired to ask. “Whatever you say, Mino. I’m gonna head back to the office.” She shut the box on her nuggets and stood, slipping her coat on. Mino followed her out of the restaurant, much to her displeasure.

“Have you made much progress?” he called after her, the door swishing closed behind them.

She turned to him and tried not to roll her eyes. “It’s not really your business anymore.”

The truth was that progress was a slower than she had anticipated, especially since her revelation that she’d might have actually come into contact with the mysterious killer. Jisoo had spent the whole day combing through endless reels of CCTV, Chaeyoung had been interviewing the tenants of the apartment building where Jiyoung was killed since this morning, and she and Hanbin had been working on developing a facial composite – and all of it was taking longer than she’d hoped for. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t deflated.

He closed the distance between them. “You’re not a detective.” His voice was low and nothing close to friendly. “You’ve never been a detective. And all of a sudden an NIS legend is appointing you to lead one of our most high-profile investigations.” He narrowed his eyes. “Forgive me, Miss Kim, for feeling as though something isn’t adding up.”

“You know what, Mino,” she inhaled heavily, and jabbed a finger into his chest, causing him to flinch backward. She was so tired and so exhausted. “Fuck you. Fuck you and your stupid haircut. No amount of gel is going to hide the fact you’re balding, okay.” It was like catharsis. Every word she spat in his direction seemed to lighten the heavy weight inside her. She imagined Jiyong standing next to her, laughing. “And another thing!” She pointed at him accusingly, no longer caring if passersby were staring at them. “Nobody likes you. Jiyong never did, and I never have. Boa approached me to lead the investigation. She wanted me! And I took the opportunity. Fucking sue me because someone finally saw my potential!”

She didn’t know why she was suddenly so angry, but she was. And there was something so freeing about it. To be angry and grieving and overwhelmed, and just not hide it anymore.

“You’re going to fail at this.” He said, shaking his head, “You don’t know the first thing about leading a team.”

She flipped him off and walked away, shouting, “Kiss my ass, Mino,” over her shoulder.

* * *

By the time she’d stomped herself back to the Sync building, her anger had mostly dissipated. Now there was only a slight tinge of doubt nestling in her chest, as she wondered if Mino was right. But he couldn’t be right. What did he know? Jiyong knew her best and Jiyong had always believed in her.

She heaved a sigh and trudged back up to the office muttering _fuck you, Mino_ under her breath with every step she took. As she entered through the door she was immediately met with excitement.

She blinked as Hanbin strode over to her, ushering her inside. “Jennie,” he smiled, “You gotta take a look at this. Everything’s coming together.”

She swiveled her head around and saw a flushed Chaeyoung, organizing some files out of a manila folder onto her desk, clearly having just arrived moments before Jennie, while Jisoo was seated in front of her computer just as she had been all day, this time though, clicking more furiously.

“You’re back,” Jennie said, moving to Chaeyoung quickly, eyes scanning the contents being laid out in front of her. She shrugged off her coat quickly and threw it over the back of her chair, leaving her box of nuggets forgotten by the door.

“Sorry it took longer than we expected to get through all the tenants,” Chaeyoung flashed a breathless smile at her. “But I did find something interesting,” she gestured to a page that the tenants’ statements written down. “There are ten apartments in the building. Seven of them are occupied by families, one is occupied by a young couple, another by a group of university students, and obviously, one is owned by the NIS.”

Jennie nodded, “Any sign of the woman I saw?”

“The young couple and one of the families both ordered take out that night, but both confirmed that their delivery drivers were men. Another one of the families mentioned that their daughter’s friend had been over, but that the friend left at 5pm, which is much earlier than when you arrived. No one claimed to hear or see anything unusual that night. However,” she handed Jennie a small pile of photographs, “We managed to take a picture of every female resident that even remotely fit your description. So you can take a look and see if you recognize any of them. If not, then there is a strong chance than you actually came into contact with the assassin.”

Jennie’s pulse was thrumming in her neck as she quickly flicked through the photographs of the young women. She went through them once, twice, three times, and once more for good measure, but not a single face struck her as familiar. “She’s not in here,” she whispered, the realization dawning on her, before she repeated it once again, at full volume. “The woman I saw. She’s not in here.”

She, Hanbin and Chaeyoung all stared at one another, wide-eyed, processing what this could mean.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your staring match, but I think I’ve got it.” Jisoo said, her voice breaking through the fog they had all lost themselves in.

They all quickly gathered around the computer. On the screen was grainy CCTV footage. Jisoo hit play, muttering for them to watch closely. Jennie’s breath hitched as she saw herself pacing down the street, and it hitched even more when she saw the door open, and there that tall, slim figure emerged. As she watched the brief encounter happen again before her eyes, her stomach twisted inside her uncomfortably. Her eyes followed the woman, the long extension of her legs, the swagger in her gait, the casual manner in which she tucked her hands into her pockets, as though she hadn’t just murdered four people.

“That’s her, right?” Hanbin nudged her.

She swallowed down. “Must be.”

“Here’s what confirms it, though,” Jisoo said, clicking a few buttons, setting the footage into rewind. “I combed through the CCTV of the previous couple of days to see if I could find her entering the building, but…she never does. Which means she must’ve gotten in some other way, but the only other entry point is the fire exit around the back of the building which can only be opened from the inside.”

“What does that suggest?” Hanbin looked around at them, waiting for further explanation.

“It suggests,” Chaeyoung supplied, looking pensive, “either she had help getting in, she’s done this enough times to know how to break through a fire exit door or…she had intel on how to enter the building another way.”

“Each one is plausible.” Jisoo concurred.

“Can you enhance the image, Jisoo?” Jennie asked, clearing her throat, “So we can get a better look at her?”

Jisoo nodded and forwarded the video to just the perfect spot - to just when the woman stepped out of the building, just when she looked over at Jennie and Jennie looked right back at her and they shared fleeting smiles. Jisoo zoomed in on it with a flick of her finger, pressing keys, and there. The pixels cleared. There was the face of the woman she was looking for. Black and white and smiling.

Jennie stared and stared until the image started to blur. The eyes and the nose and the lips. That night came back to her. The face from the CCTV merging with the face from her memory.

She went back to her desk and slowly sat down.

Her heart was thumping inexplicably in her chest. She felt sick, as though she were standing at the precipice of something dark and deep. It was nausea and bile. It was exhilaration and butterflies. She didn’t know which feeling she should’ve been more concerned by.

* * *

“Finally,” one of the men grunted as Lisa entered the room, ice bucket and champagne in hand. “Took you long enough.” The other three men jeered in agreement.

Lisa only offered them a tight, saccharine smile, before moving toward the mahogany drinks cabinet at the other side of the room. She retrieved 5 glasses, and set to work popping the champagne, which earned another round of cheers from the other occupants in the room.

She glanced over her shoulder to see that Sana was keeping the four Neanderthals’ entertained, their breath bearing down on her skin as she rehashed a totally fictional story about her yoga retreat in the north of India.

In the first four glasses, Lisa poured the champagne, and from her sleeve she slipped out a small glass vial containing a clear liquid. She smiled, giving each glass a couple of splashes, watching the poison disappear into the golden bubbles.

“I think the champagne is ready, boys!” Sana sing-song-ed, appearing next to her, her face falling as soon as her back was turned.

They shared a knowing look before Sana picked up two of the champagne flutes and turned back around, giggling merrily as she handed them to the fattest and the skinniest of the quartet. Lisa joined her, letting the remaining men take the last two glasses.

She stood back and simply observed as Sana poured herself a glass and raised it into the air. “Cheers, gentlemen!”

They yelled out an elated “Cheers!” in unison and downed their glasses.

And it didn’t take long. Less than a minute. One by one, each man’s face drew into a mild concern, before they all started coughing and as the coughing became more violent, their faces red and flushed, eyes bloodshot and bulging from their sockets, they gasped, clutching their throats.

She inhaled and exhaled happily, pouring herself a glass of champagne, and went to stand beside Sana to enjoy the show.

“Here it comes,” she commented, sipping prettily. Just then, in the fashion of dominos, one after the other, blood came spluttering from their lips, splattering on the furnishings, staining the cream carpet like an abstract art piece.

They all stood there for a moment, wavering on their feet unsteadily before thudding to the floor in a messy heap of thinning hair, swollen limbs, designer suits and blood.

Sana averted her eyes and set her glass down. “Gross.”

Lisa snorted, “I guess lemons really don’t stand. Even with shoes.”

Sana gave her a morbidly amused look, shaking her head. “You’re so weird.”

“The poison was a good idea.” She commented, watching keenly as the nearest man’s eyes rolled back into his head, a guttural gargle erupting lazily from his open mouth. “I have to say I was skeptical at first, but this was really rather entertaining.”

She did not miss the way Sana looked away, her fists clenched and her eyes glassy. “Let’s get out of here.” She muttered.

Lisa nodded but took a moment to absorb the scene in front of her. Destruction and death. It was so familiar to her that she almost found a comfort in it. This was who she was, and this is what she did. 

As Sana unlocked the balcony doors, Lisa took the piece of paper she’d been keeping inside her waistcoat, and perched it onto the coffee table, the corners staining a dark red. Just as she was about to leave, she turned back and gazed at it one more time, a laugh bubbling inside her, but she kept it quiet and she kept it secret – knowing Jennie would find it.

* * *

Jennie watched Hanbin, her face scrunched in a look of disgust. “I really can’t believe I consider you my friend.”

“Oh, behave yourself.” He sucked his tongue. “You’re acting like I killed your grandma or something.”

“You may as well have with your diabolical eating habits. My poor grandmother would have a heart attack if she knew what you were having for breakfast.” She shook her head in utter disappointment.

“I already told you,” The elevator dinged and they both got off on the top floor. “These,” Hanbin held up his bag of lemon hard candies, “are not breakfast. I found them in my car and thought they’d make a nice snack.”

“Lemon sweets. At 9am. A nice snack?” She frowned. “Sounds like terrorism to me.”

He laughed as they rounded the corner. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

They paused by the water dispenser so she could refill her bottle. As the machine whirred quietly, Jennie considered his words and smiled slightly. “I am, actually.” She screwed the lid back onto her bottle and turned to him. For the first time in a while she’d gotten a good night’s sleep and dreamt of nothing. No nightmares of Jiyong, so restless tossing or turning. Just peaceful slumber. And her mind felt so much clearer because of it. “It’s been an emotional roller coaster these past few weeks.”

“I feel that,” he nodded, popping another yellow sweet into his mouth.

“I guess, with all the progress we made yesterday…” she took a breath. “I don’t know…it just feels like maybe there will be some light at the end of the tunnel. You know?”

“I know,” he gripped forearm comfortingly and they continued their course to the office.

“Good morning, team,” Jennie greeted happily as they walked in, Hanbin in tow.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw Boa standing in the middle of the room with a rather grim expression weighing on her face. She glanced over at Chaeyoung and Jisoo who were both standing motionlessly by their desks, staring at her in a similar fashion.

“Jennie, Hanbin,” Boa said, gesturing for them to close the door. “I think you may want to sit down.”

Jennie blinked nervously, rapidly, setting her things down on her desk before sitting as instructed. “Has something happened?”

“There’s been another murder.” Boa answered.

“Right. Of course.” She had been expecting another one at some point. “Where?”

“London. Two Chinese and two Thai officials were murdered in a private room at an exclusive party for the rich and connected. Poisoned.” Boa folded her hands in front of her. “We have reason to believe it was her.”

“This is good, isn’t it? We can further our investigation.” Jennie nodded, looking around at all of them, still confused by the apparent tension in the air. “And we expected another kill sometime soon, right? Why are you three looking at me like I have a target on my forehead?”

Boa gave a pained expression and picked up the tablet from Jisoo’s desk, unlocked it and tapped it a few times before holding it out to Jennie. “She left a note.”

“A note?” Jennie stood and took the tablet from Boa’s grasp, feeling her own pulse quickening inside her. “For who?”

She looked down at the picture on the screen which showed a photograph of said note, stained with dried blood. She could make out sharp, cursive handwriting that almost had a regal edge to it, scribed onto the page in thick black ink. Her mouth dried when she saw whom it was addressed to:

**_Dearest Jennie Kim,_ **

**_Roses are red,_ **

**_Jiyong’s blood was too._ **

**_I’m named God’s Promise._ **

**_You catch me and I’ll catch you._ **

**_Faithfully yours._ **

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoyed, would love to hear your thoughts :)


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